LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


SEVEN     YEARS 


Qigong  tlje  Ffeedipn. 


M.  WATERBURY. 


T.B.  AKNOL.D, 

CHICAGO/ILL.: 
1890. 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 


DEDICATION, 

To  rny 

Associate  Teachers 
in  Heaven  and  on    Earth, 

to  the 
Suqday   Schools 

that    have 

Helped   me  in   my  Work 
/\mong  the  Freedmen, 

and   to  the 

Y,   M.  C.  A.  of  Scotland, 
which  supplied  me 

with  Books 

this  volume  is  dedicated 
by  the  author, 

M.  WATERBURY. 


Copyright,  1880,  by  Maria  Waterbury. 


ONE  OF  THE  THREE  TEACHERS. 


Above  is  a  picture  of  a  teacher,  a  graduate  of  one  of  the  colleges 
of  Michigan.  She  used  to  say  the  freedmen  work  was  her  hus 
band  arid  children.  She  has  just  passed  to  her  reward  in  heaven. 
The  following  lines  are  affectionately  inscribed  to  her  by  the  au 
thor  of  this  book,  her  associate  teacher  for  two  years: 

(lone  to  Canaan,  entered  in. 
Freed  from  every  snare  and  sin; 
We  on  this  side  Jordan's  shore 
See  thy  friendly  face  no  more. 


No  more  talks  about  our  Lord 
No  more  searchings  of  his  word, 
No  more  longings  for  his  grace, 
She  hath  seen  him  face  to  face. 


Finished  all  the  teaching  years, 
Finished  all  the  prayers  and  tears, 
Sword,  and  shield,  and  helmet  on, 
Gone  to  Canaan,  for  the  crown. 

All  her  toils  on  earth  are  done, 
Through  the  cross  the  victory  won. 
She  the  golden  streets  hath  trod, 
Gone  to  Canaan,  gone  to  God. 


CHAPTER    I. 


JOURNEYING. 

"In  perils  by  mine  own  countrymen." — 2  Cor.  xi.  26. 

The  instructions  of  the  missionary  society,  are, 
"go  south  about  eight  hundred  miles,  until  you  find 
the  plantation  school  waiting  for  you."  The  last 
week  of  November  two  of  us  start  from  near 
Chicago.  Our  Saratoga  trunks  are  heavy  with 
books.  Our  friends  in  the  northern  churches,  have 
sent  us  with  many  prayers  and  blessings,  and  our 
gray-haired  pastor  has  given  us  letters  of  introduc 
tion  to  churches  at  the  South,  wherever  we  may  find 
a  home.  We  are  to  teach  our  first  .Freedmen's 
school,  on  a  plantation,  twenty-five  miles  from  a  rail 
road.  From  Cairo,  Illinois,  we  go  down  the  Mis 
sissippi,  and  across  to  Paducah,  Kentucky.  The 
marks  of  the  bomb-shelling  the  town  received  in  wat 
time,  are  still  visible.  The  houses  are  unpainted, 
gloomy-looking  habitations,  some  of  them  with  ball 
holes  in  them. 


10         SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

From  the  large  steamer  we  have  crossed  the 
river  in,  we  ascend  the  bluffs,  and  take  the  cars  on 
the  M.  &  O.  railroad.  All  day  we  have  been  trav 
eling  with  a  party  of  southern  ladies,  who  have  been 
north  to  attend  a  wedding;  one  of  them  walks  with 
crutches.  We  have  been  through  the  train  in  Illi 
nois,  distributing  tracts,  and  the  sweet-faced  lady  on 
crutches,  says  to  us: 

"Oh!  you  have  tracts.  Yes,  I'll  take  some 
tracts,  and  I'll  join  your  company  too.  I'm  a 
preacher's  wife,  and  I  do  that  kind  of  work  some 
times." 

"Indeed!  Do  you  work  among  black  and  white 
both?" 

"Yes;  I  tell  'em  they're  all  bound  for  the  same 
place.  The  grave'll  soon  hold  us  all." 

Directly  one  of  the  southern  ladies,  two  or  three 
seats  distant,  says  in  a  loud  voice,  "You'll  soon  see 
some  nigger  teachers.  My  husband  says  they  all 
wear  spectacles,  and  read  newspapers." 

We  laugh  in  our  sleeves  to  think  the  high-toned 
southrons  sought  our  society,  and  don't  dream  they 
are  traveling  with  hated  nigger  teachers;  but  we 
say  nothing. 

Arriving  at  Jackson,  Tennessee,  the  lame  lady, 
and  all  but  one  of  the  others,  change  cars  for  New 
Orleans. 

The  lady  now  left  alone,  draws  a  little  nearer  to 
us,  and  we  adjust  ourselves  to  continue  our  journey. 

"Tickets !  tickets !"  says  the  conductor,  and  takes 
our  government  passes,  which  show  we  are  traveling 
under  protection  of  the  government.  He  looks  at 


JOURNEYING.  II 

them,  and  at  us,  and  with  an  "all  right,"  passes  on. 
As  a  thunder  cloud  quickly  gathers  blackness  some 
times,  so  the  face  of  our  southern  traveling  compan 
ion  grows  darker  and  more  gloomy,  until  with  a 
sudden  jerk,  she  bounds  to  her  feet,  and  handing  her 
small  baggage  to  a  brakeman  near,  says,  "Show  me 
out  of  this  car,"  and  we  lose  our  company. 

Nearing  Corinth,  a  southern  woman,  who  has 
seen  the  performances  of  the  day,  comes  down  the 
aisle  of  the  car,  and  with  a  scornful  look,  points  out 
of  the  window  towards  the  soldiers'  cemetery,  ex 
claiming,  "Yon's  where  the  Yanks  is  buried,  about 
ten  thousand  of  'em.  Yon's  the  flag  a  flyin'  over 
'em,  an' yon  was  the  battle  of  Shiloh,  about  twelve 
miles  away.  Yon's  the  road  they  made  to  bring  'em 
on,  when  they  buried  'em." 

Seating  herself  for  a  few  minutes,  she  waits 
until  the  train  stops,  and  many  of  the  passengers  go 
out  to  lunch,  then  begins  walking  up  and  down  the 
aisle  of  the  car,  and  in  a  tragic  manner  says,  half 
crying,  "My  son  was  killed!  I  can't  stand  it  yet, 
when  I  think  of  it.  Oh!  if  I  only  had'' em  P  d  make 
a  finish  of  em  /"  Seeing  one  of  the  teachers  in  tears, 
she  says,  "May  be  you  uns  lost  some  too?" 

"Yes,"  is  the  reply;  "starved  to  death!" 

"My  God!"  says  the  woman;  "that's  worse  than 
mine."  After  that,  we  have  one  sympathizer  on  the 
train. 

We  reach  the  end  of  our  railroad  ride  at  mid 
night,  and  find  at  the  shed-like  depot  only  a  white 
man  with  a  lantern,  and  a  dozen  half-grown  colored 
boys  dressed  in  cotton  sacks  and  cast-off  clothes  of 


12         SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

union  soldiers.  The  man  with  the  lantern  repre 
sents  the  only  hotel  in  the  place,  and  we  follow  him 
on  foot,  less  than  half  a  mile,  to  the  hotel  kept  by 
two  women,  both  widows.  They  give  us  the  best 
room,  and  light  a  fire  in  the  fire-place  for  us,  which 
smokes  and  goes  out.  The  night  air  has  chilled  us 
through,  and  the  hostess  kindly  comes  in  to  see  if 
she  can  improve  things.  She  puffs  away  at  the 
pipe  she  has  in  her  mouth,  but  the  fire  does  nothing 
but  smoke.  The  hotel  is  full  of  boarders,  and 
among  them,  the  livery  stable  keeper,  who  is  to 
send  us  twenty-five  miles  into  the  country.  He  re 
quires  pay  in  advance,  and  we  give  him  twelve  dol 
lars  and  a  half,  and  retire;  but  not  to  sleep  much  as 
the  bed  is  preoccupied  by  vermin.  Breakfast  con 
sists  of  corn  bread,  bacon,  and  sweet  potatoes,  and 
ere  long  we  are  loading  up  for  our  ride.  For  a  driv 
er  we  have  a  one-legged  ex-confederate  soldier,  of 
the  poor  white  class.  Our  conveyance  is  a  cart  with 
two  wheels.  A  pair  of  mules  and  two  splint-bot 
tomed  chairs  complete  our  outfit.  Wedged  in,  so 
that  every  inch  of  room  is  occupied  with  our  chairs 
and  trunks,  we  wonder  where  the  driver  will  sit; 
but  he  swings  up  on  a  trunk,  and  hangs  his  one  leg 
down,  very  near  the  mules'  tails.  With  all  the 
boarders  in  the  house  standing  on  the  veranda,  and 
the  two  widows  smoking  their  pipes,  with  their 
heads  out  of  the  windows,  we  start. 

Did  ever  mules  snail  like  those?  It  was  fully 
twelve  o'clock,  ere  we  had  gone  six  miles,  then  our 
driver  stopped  his  team,  and  demanded  of  us  how 
much  we  paid  the  stable  keeper  for  "totin'  us,  over 


JOURNEYING.  13 

thar";  drawling  out,  "I'll  be  darned,  if  ye  all  don' 
tell  me,  I'll  go  plum  back  this  minute."  Of  course 
we  tell  him,  twelve  dollars. 

"Wall  now  ef  he  ain't  took  twelve  dollar  from 
ye,  an  here  he  don't  guv  me  mor'n  five.  I'm  gwine 
back";  and  he  turned  his  mules  toward  our  place  of 
starting  in  the  morning,  all  the  while  darning  every 
thing  and  everybody. 

At  length  after  many  persuasions  on  our  part, 
and  promise  of  more  pay,  he  turned  again,  and  be 
gan  the  journey.  To  divert  his  mind  from  his  bar 
gain,  we  inquired  the  cause  of  his  having  but  one 
leg. 

"Lost  it  in  the  war,  ma'arm;  an'  wuz  took  a 
prizener  tu,  an'  carried  outer  a  gun-boat!  Been  all 
up  thar,  tu  de  norf ;  seen  all  dat  country,  an'  loikes 
it  tu;  been  tu  Chicagur,  an'  couldn't  a'  been  treated 
better  by  my  own  brudder;  had  fresh  bread  every 
day,  an'  a  good  bed,  an'  preachin  in  camp  o'  Sun 
days,  an'  dem  people  used  us  like  we  had  allers  bin 
thar  neighburs." 

In  the  midst  of  a  muddy  ravine  just  here,  down 
went  the  cart,  and  the  trunks  being  too  heavy  for  it, 
the  bottom  fell  out;  trunks,  chairs,  and  all  began  to 
sink,  down,  down,  until  we  were  fast  in  the  mud, 
and  for  once  the  driver  forgot  to  grumble.  One  of 
the  wagon  wheels  was  broken,  and  all  the  one  leg 
ged  driver  could  do  was  to  hold  fast  to  the  mules 
Soon  one  of  the  teachers  said  to  the  other, 

"I  feel  sure  help  is  coming!  Don't  you  believe 
it?"  "I  believe  you  say  so,"  s:iid  the  other  teacher. 
She  had  hardly  uttered  the  words,  when  a  stout  col- 


14  SEVEN    YEARS  AMONG  THE  FREEDMEN. 

ored  man  made  his  appearance,  but  was  going  past 
us  without  stopping.  "Help  us  now  yer,"  said  the 
driver;  and  the  Boston  teacher  began  pulling  bright 
covered  books  out  of  her  traveling  bag,  saying,  "You 
shall  have  a  book  if  you  help  us  out  with  the  trunks." 
All  of  us  lifting  together,  we,  with  some  difficulty, 
placed  the  trunks  on  the  ground.  Was  it  a  special 
providence  that  at  that  moment  sent  a  man  with  a 
stout  pair  of  mules  and  a  big  wagon  towards  us,  just 
as  our  one-legged  driver  with  his  broken  cart  was 
driving  off  to  leave  us  in  the  pine  woods  alone,  and 
night  coming  on? 

This  time  we  rode  in  what  at  the  West  is  called 
a  prairie-schooner.  The  driver  was  a  poor  white, 
who  earned  his  living  by  "doin'  haulin',"  as  he  called 
it.  He  could  only  tote  us  a  few  miles  he  said,  but 
knew  of  a  Mr.  Maybee,  a  man  who  kept  entertain 
ment  for  man  and  beast,  and  after  much  grumbling 
about  having  to  go  plum  out  of  the  way  he  meant 
to  go,  and  after  promise  of  large  pay,  he  took  us 
three  miles  farther  on  our  journey,  we  talking  of  the 
country,  of  the  war,  of  the  crops,  and  of  the  great 
question,  "What  must  I  do  to  be  saved?"  "Did  you 
never  think  you  owed  any  service  to  God  ?"  said  one 
of  the  teachers  to  him,  by  way  of  beginning  the  con 
versation. 

"Wall,  no  ma'arm.  Neow  ef  I  ever'd  tho't  I  owed 
God  anything  I'd  be  darned,  I'd  pay  it,"  was  the 
reply. 

The  depth  of  this  man's  ignorance  was  dreadful ! 
No  Bible,  no  idea  of  his  Maker, not  much  more  than 
one  of  his  mules.  There  are  many  thousands  of  these 


JOURNEYING.  15 

poor  whites,  at  the  South.  In  a  white  school  of  our 
acquaintance,  one  of  them  undertook  to  send  a  child 
to  the  school,  but  the  child  never  had  any  notice  ta 
ken  of  it  by  the  teacher,  who  was  employed  to  teach 
upper-ten  whites.  The  white  people  of  the  country 
never  associate  with  poor  whites  any  more  than  with 
colored  people. 

Snailing  along  in  the  rain,  we  arrive  at  Mr. 
Maybee's,  but  his  wife  is  sick,  his  house  is  being  re 
built,  and  he  can't  keep  us,  but  refers  us  to  the  Arm 
strong  sisters,  a  mile  away,  where  we -can  surely 
find  a  place  for  the  night;  and  he  helps  us  persuade 
the  driver  to  take  us  there.  The  ladies  are  relatives 
of  the  planter  who  has  sent  for  us  to  teach  his 
ex-slaves.  They  have  heard  of  the  proposed 
school,  and  proceed  to  ventilate  their  opinions  of  it 
and  us,  freely. 

"You  are  ladies,  and  before  I'd  teach  a  nigger 
school,  I'd  beg  my  bread  from  door  to  door.  No 
you  can't  come  into  our  house,  and  Mr.  Maybee  is  a 
black-hearted  wretch  to  send  you  here!  Nigger 
teachers,  indeed!  As  though  we  would  disgrace 
ourselves  having  them  in  our  house!" 

These  ladies  were  not  uneducated,  or  low,  but 
were  of  the  highest  class  in  the  South.  We  respect 
ed  their  prejudices,  but  were  amazed  at  their  hatred. 
After  some  more  conversation,  leveled  at  us  from 
the  windows,  out  of  which  they  stuck  their  heads 
to  talk,  they  consented  to  let  the  driver  set  our  trunks 
inside  their  yard,  and  informed  us  Colonel  Jedson  lived 
a  mile  farther  on,  and  he  would  doubtless  keep  us  all 
night.  Once  more  we  started,  this  time  on  foot,  to 


l6          SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

complete  our  day's  journey,  in  the  rain,  and  very 
near  night-fall.  Soon  we  were  joined  by  a  young 
colored  woman  who  lived  on  the  Jedson  plantation, 
and  we  felt  in  good  company,  and  "happy  on  the 
way." 

At  the  colonel's  gate  the  colored  woman  gave 
a  loud  call,  as  is  the  custom  South,  as  some  one 
must  ward  off  the  dogs,  before  it  is  safe  to  enter  any 
yard.  Very  soon  the  gentleman  of  the  house  makes 
his  appearance,  coming  out  to  the  gate  to  meet  us; 
and  it  seems,  after  our  weary  day,  we  are  to  see  what 
southern  hospitality  is. 

"Walk  in  ladies  and  deposit  your  bundles,"  says 
the  ex-rebel  colonel,  "and  I  will  see  that  you  are 
cared  for." 

We  are  shown  into  the  best  room  of  the  house, 
the  first  plastered  wall  we  have  seen  in  the  state,  as 
many  of  the  houses  are  ceiled  in  the  style  of  a  hun 
dred  years  ago.  Exit  Colonel  Jedson,  and  a  colored 
girl  comes  in,  bearing  two  glasses  of  water  on  a 
server.  We  had  heard  of  this  beautiful  custom  at 
the  South,  of  receiving  strangers,  and  we  drink  and 
begin  to  rest.  The  colonel's  little  son  and  two  serv 
ants,  bring  each  a  log  of  wood  for  the  fire,  on  their 
shoulders,  lay  them  down  in  the  fire-place,  and 
march  out  with  a  military  step,  all  in  line.  Next 
comes  a  colored  woman,  bringing  fire,  and  "fat-pine" 
kindlings,  and  soon  the  colonel  comes  in  to  see  that 
fire  started.  In  half  an  hour,  the  lady,  Mrs.  Jedson, 
comes  in  with  a  long  gossamer  veil  floating  from 
the  back  of  her  head,  reaching  nearly  to  her  knees, 
and  spends  half  an  hour  entertaining  us.  After  her 


JOURNEYING.  i>J 

exit,  comes  the  grown  daughter  of  the  family  to  sit 
with  her  embroidery,  and,  by  small  talk,  make  it 
pleasant  for  the  strangers.  The  fragrant  fat  pine 
from  the  fire,  the  blaze  of  which  flickers  out  upon 
the  whitewashed  wall,  the  restful-looking  great 
couch  in  the  corner,  the  white  sanded  floor, 
and  easy  splint-bottomed  chairs,  and  the  whole  fam 
ily  vying  with  each  other  to  entertain  us,  we  begin 
to  think  after  all,  the  South  is  a  part  of  our  grand 
country,  and  we  are  near  of  kin  to  these  Christian 
people. 

A  few  weeks  afterwards,  we  met  the  daughter, 
who  treated  us  so  handsomely  at  home,  in  church, 
and  at  the  close  of  service,  we  attempt  to  speak  to 
her,  and  inquire  after  her  father's  family,  and  she  in 
stantly  and  abruptly  turns  her  back  upon  us,  ignoring 
our  presence.  Wanted. — A  new  dictionary  to  ex 
plain  southern  prejudice. 

"It's  Gog  and  Magog,  yet  ma'am,  for  quite  a 
while  I  reckon,"  says  a  northern  person,  who  has 
spent  several  years  South. 

Morning,  and  breakfast  over,  the  colonel  would 
take  us  the  remaining  six  mites  of  our  journey;  but 
this  plantation,  where  once  lived  two  hundred  slaves, 
and  much  stock,  now  has  only  one  mule  and  one  or 
two  cows. 

"Only  one  mule,  ma'am,"  says  the  colonel,  "and 
we  are  using  that  in  the  cotton-gin,  every  day." 

A  walk  of  a  mile  back  to  the  Armstrong  sisters,  to 
know  what  has  become  of  our  trunks,  and  see  if  we 
can  find  another  mule.  Half  way  on  our  walk  stands 
a  mule  with  a  saddle  on  it,  tied  to  a  gate.  We  accost 


l8          SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FUEEDMEN. 

the  stranger  who  owns  it,  tell  him  our  situation,  and 
ask  if  the  mule  can  be  hired  for  the  drive.  He  is  a 
neighbor  of  the  colonel's,  and  consents  to  ride  up  to 
his  house,  and  soon  we  are  off  for  the  place  of  our 
year's  work.  The  colonel  has  a  Yankee  market- 
wagon.  He  drives  for  us,  and  Mrs.  Jedson  accom 
panies  us  part  of  the  way,  to  visit  her  brother  who  is 
very  ill. 

Arriving  at  the  plantation,  we  find  a  store,  a 
shop  or  two,  a  white  school,  and  an  immense  build 
ing,  used  in  slave  times  for  a  white  boys'  school. 
We  are  to  have  living  rooms  in  the  upper  story  of  the 
large  building,  and  school  rooms  in  the  lower.  A  col 
ored  woman  is  employed  as  cook  for  us;  and  at  our 
first  Sunday-school,  the  next  morning,  over  a  hun 
dred  black  people,  men  and  women,  join  in  singing 
so  grandly,  that  it  brings  tears  to  our  eyes  to  hear 
the  wonderful  pathos  of  their  music.  The  white 
planter  believes  the  school  will  please  the  blacks, 
and  be  a  means  of  helping  him  keep  the  better  class 
of  them  to  do  his  work.  At  the  first  Sunday-school, 
he  brings  his  newspaper,  and  sits  in  the  chapel  near 
us  to  hear  our  instruction.  They  tell  us  he  is  a  class- 
leader,  and  we  ask  him  to  open  the  school  with 
prayer.  He  peers  at  us  over  his  spectacles  and  says, 
"That's  your  business,  ma'am,"  and  we  two  teachers 
go  on  with  the  school,  giving  oral  instruction,  as  not 
ten  of  the  hundred  before  us  can  read. 

In  the  afternoon  we  go  to  the  first  colored  meet 
ing  we  have  ever  attended.  Five  ministers  are  in 
the  pulpit.  The  church  building  is  far  inferior  to 
the  barns  at  home.  A  young  preacher,  very  black, 


JOURNEYING.  19 

reads  from  Revelation  vi.,  of  "an  angel  with  a  pair 
of  banisters  in  his  hand."  The  ignorant  sermon  is 
done,  and  the  praying!  oh!  that  is  enough  to  pay  us 
for  our  journey  of  eight  hundred  miles,  mule  rides, 
poor  whites,  and  all.  We  are  lifted  on  those  prayers 
heavenward,  and  the  songs  reach  to  the  depths  of 
our  souls.  As  the  benediction  is  pronounced,  the 
only  white  man  in  the  large  audience,  wearing  lem 
on-colored  kid  gloves,  rises  and  says  he  has  heard  of 
a  school  to  be  opened  for  the  people,  that  he  has 
thought  of  teaching  a  school  himself,  and  will  begin 
in  the  morning. 

The  young  preacher  of  the  day,  says,  "We  has 
got  our  teachers  here,  from  de  norf,  with  much 
trouble,  an'  de  good  book  says,  ef  we  put  our  hand 
to  de  plow,  an'  look  back,  we  aint  fit  fur  de  king 
dom.  An'  we  is  goin'  tu  stick  tu  our  teachers." 

But  the  war  against  us  has  begun,  and  we  are 
threatened  with  many  things.  "The  building  will 
be  burnt  I  fear,"  says  the  planter.  "You  all  can 
come  to  my  house  for  awhile." 

In  the  upper  story  of  the  plantation  house,  we 
are  guarded  by  freedmen,  not  daring  to  begin  our 
school.  Here  we  pass  the  Christmas  holidays,  cared 
for  by  the  planter's  family,  and  guarded  at  night  by 
colored  people,  who  built  great  bonfires,  and  we 
hear  them  in  their  night  watches,  talking,  and  some 
times  singing.  They  are  paying  dear  for  their  first 
attempt  at  starting  a  school.  On  Christmas  morning 
before  breakfast,  a  colored  woman,  bearing  two 
glasses  of  egg-nog,  comes  up  stairs,  saying,  "Mrs. 
S.  sends  her  compliments,  and  wishes  you  a  merry 


20         SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FKEEDMEN. 

Christmas."  We  thank  her  and  say,  "Tell  the  lady 
we  never  drink  anything  of  the  kind." 

The  astonished  girl  goes  down,  and  again  re 
turns,  saying,  "The  missus  wants  to  know  if  you 
will  take  some  wine."  We  tell  her  we  never  drank 
a  glass  in  our  lives,  and  ask  her  to  excuse  us,  saying, 
"Our  church  at  home  has  the  temperance  pledge,  as 
a  part  of  the  creed." 

We  pass  the  day  writing,  and  towards  evening, 
go  down  to  chat  a  little  with  the  family.  The 
planter  rises  and  begins  telling  us  we  needn't  fear, 
as  he  has  his  gun  loaded,  and  dogs  ready,  and  if  there 
is  any  fuss,  he  can  soon  stop  it.  We  notice  his  gun 
standing  in  the  corner  of  the  room,  and  soon  he  be 
gins  to  stagger  towards  it,  so  drunk  he  nearly  falls 
down.  Alas!  this  is  our  protection!  We  hope  it  is 
better  with  the  freed  men,  but  find  many  of  them  too, 
have  been  drinking.  The  planter  has  a  wine  cellar, 
and  to  cheer  them  up  in  their  trouble,  has  taken  one 
or  two  favorite  ex-slaves  into  it,  and  dealt  out  liquors 
to  them,  and  they  have  given  to  others,  until  many 
on  the  place  are  drunk. 

We  retire  to  our  room,  realizing  that  our  "weap 
ons  are  not  carnal."  Before  the  holidays  are  over, 
we  see  children  drunk,  for  the  first  time  in  our  lives. 
In  a  week  we  begin  school,  and  immediately  start  a 
temperance  society.  Before  the  five  months  of 
school  are  closed,  there  are  over  a  hundred  members 
to  our  Band  of  Hope,  and  over  thirty  are  hopefully 
converted. 

"Peter  was  of  doubting  mind, 
About  the  work  he  came  to  do. 


JOURNEYING.  21 

Simon  Peter,  go  your  way, 

And  never  mind  what  the  world'll  say. 

Hold  out,  your  troubles  will  be  over. 

Hold  out,  your  troubles  will  be  over. 

Hold  out,  your  troubles  will  be  over. 
Hope  I'll  jine  the  band." 


CHAP  TE  R    II. 


KU-KLUX    AND    PRAYER. 

A  large  brick  house  with  a  lovely  garden  in  the 
rear,  walks  bordered  with  box,  fig  trees  with  green 
and  ripe  figs  on  them,  tall  pines  down  the  walk, 
lovely  roses,  and  climbing  vines — one  of  the  homes 
of  aristocracy  in  slave  times.  The  planter  who  lived 
here  owned  several  hundred  slaves.  Now  a  family 
from  the  North  reside  here,  and  we  two  "nigger 
teachers"  board  with  them.  The  family  have  been 
visiting  twenty  miles  away  for  a  day  or  two,  and  we 
teachers  are  keeping  house  for  them,  with  a  colored 
family  of  six  persons  living  in  the  kitchens,  three 
rods  in  the  rear  of  the  house,  and  doing  all  the  work 
for  us.  We  are  in  charge  of  two  colored  schools  a 
mile  away.  We  have  heard  of  the  Ku-Klux  being 
on  their  night  raids  of  late,,  and  this  morning  as  the 
clock  struck  two,  we  heard  a  low  whistle  outside  the 

gate,  and  Miss  C and  the  writer  woke  the  same 

moment,  each  saying  to   the   other,   "Did  you  hear 

22 


KU-KLUX    AND    PRAYER.  23 

that?"  We  struck  a  light,  pulled  down  the  shades 
of  the  windows,  and  hastily  dressed,  but  not  before 
we  heard  the  tramp  of  heavy  feet  on  the  porch  out 
side.  Our  room  opened  into  another  room  kept  for 
storage  purposes,  where  was  a  large  box  of  shelled 
corn.  'Twas  the  work  of  a  moment  for  us  to  slip  a 
package  containing  a  large  sum  of  money,  that  had 
been  left  by  an  officer  under  government,  in  care  of 
the  lady  of  the  house,  into  the  box  of  corn,  and  drag 
our  Saratoga  trunks  against  the  door.  The  money 
was  left  in  our  care  in  the  absence  of  the  family,  and 
for  a  moment  we  supposed  the  night  riders  had  found 
it  out;  but  afterwards  learned  they  knew  nothing 
of  it,  but  were  trying  to  impress  upon  the  teachers, 
and  northern  family,  the  fact  that  "this  is  a  white 
man's  government." 

Tramp,  tramp  went  the  feet,  first  on  the  north 
porch,  then  on  the  south,  and  ever  and  anon  a  whistle, 
and  we  expected  them  to  enter,  but  God  heard  our 
prayers  for  safety.  We  sat,  one  on  each  side  of  our 
little  table,  with  our  lamp  lighted,  and  our  Bibles  in 
our  hands,  and  read  aloud  the  promises  of  our  God, 
so  mighty  to  save. 

"As  the  mountains  are  round  about  Jerusalem, 
so  the  Lord  is  round  about  his  people  from  hence 
forth  even  forever." — Psa.  cxxv.  2. 

"If  two  of  you  shall  agree  on  earth,  as  touching 
any  thing  that  they  shall  ask,  it  shall  be  done  for 
them  of  my  Father  which  is  in  heaven." — Matt, 
xviii.  19. 

We  said,  "Lord,  we  do  agree,  and  we  ask  that 
the  intruders  may  not  enter  this  room." 


24         SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FRKEDMEN. 

Together  we  repeated  the  same  prayer,  over  and 
over,  and  soon  one  of  us  said,  "I  have  the  assurance 
that  they  •will  not  enter."  Tramp,  tramp  went  the 
feet  on  the  porch,  and  we  heard  them  try  the  locks 
of  the  doors,  and  whistle  to  each  other,  and  thus  for 
over  two  hours  we  watched  and  waited,  and  only 
until  the  morning  began  to  dawn,  did  they  go  to 
their  carriages  and  ride  away. 

In  the  morning  we  saw  the  tracks  of  horses,  and 
of  many  people.  The  next  night  a  guard  from  the 
town,  a  mile  away,  came  and  staid  on  the  plantation. 

We  afterwards  heard  there  were  two  wagon 
loads  of  Ku-Klux,  but  they  dared  not  enter  to  molest 
us,  as  they  feared  we  were  armed,  and  so  we  were, 
and  guarded,  too,  for  "the  angel  of  the  Lord  encamp- 
eth  round  about  them  that  fear  him,  and  delivereth 
them."  We  had  only  proved  God's  faithfulness. 


CHAPTER    III. 

DOGS. 

"This  way,  ma'am,  if  you  please.  You'll  need 
to  get  acquainted  with  the  dogs,  or  it  won't  be  safe 
for  ye  to  stay  on  the  place." 

At  this  juncture  the  old  planter  went  througn 
with  the  ceremony  of  introducing  the  dogs  to  us,  as 
he  called  it.  A  number  of  savage-looking  hounds 
were  told  to  put  their  noses  on  our  dresses,  which 
they  did;  then  told  they  must  guard  us,  but  mustn't 
hurt  us;  and  we  were  told  to  throw  them  some 
crumbs  of  food,  and  after  a  pat  or  two  from  the 
planter,  they  seemed  to  consider  us  as  belonging  to 
the  place. 

"There's  nine  of  'em  on  the  plantation,  and  it 
takes  more  to  feed  'em  than  to  bread  my  family," 
said  he.  "When  you  come  into  the  yard,  throw 
'em  a  few  crumbs,  and  they'll  guard  ye!" 

The  nine  dogs  were  only  a  small  portion  of  the 
dog  family  we  saw,  for  every  family  seemed  to  pride 

25 


26 


DOGS.  27 

themselves  more  on  the  number  of  dogs  they  owned, 
than  on  the  appearance  of  the  plantation.  One  of 
the  teachers  gave  names  to  the  dogs  that  called  daily 
to  get  the  crumbs  from  the  school  yard,  and  some 
times  she  told  us  that  the  lame  dog  had  made  its  ap 
pearance,  or  the  very  large  dog,  or  the  long-tailed 
dog,  or  the  spotted  hound  had  come;  or  the  sneaking 
dog  or  the  fox-tailed  dog  had  left,  and  the  yellow 
dog  and  the  leanest  dog  were  just  coming. 

Having  occasion  to  visit  a  dressmaker  once,  we 
were  beset  by  a  monstrous  bull-dog,  and  as  we 
thought,  but  just  escaped  being  devoured,  when  the 
mistress  made  her  appearance  and  ordered  the  dog  to 
"git,"  and  he  went  under  the  house  with  a  bound, 
and  remained  there  until  called  out  to  be  introduced 
to  us. 

"That  dog,"  said  .the  seamstress,  "went  through 
the  war  with  me,  and  when  General  Grierson  and 
his  staff  rode  up  to  the  door,  I  said,  'Gentlemen,  if 
you  want  a  decent  meal  of  victuals  in  my  house,  you 
can  have  it;  but  if  you've  come  to  ransack  as  some  of 
the  soldiers  do,  you  can't  do  it,  for  my  dog'll  tear  at 
least  one  of  ye  in  pieces  the  minute  I  say  the  word.t 
The  soldiers  talked  together  a  little,  then  rode  away. 
They  didn't  know  I  had  nigh  onto  ten  thousand  dol 
lars  worth  of  silver  plate  hid  in  my  chamber,  that 
my  neighbors  had  trusted  me  with,  or  more'n  three 
thousand  dollars  in  confederate  money  on  my  person. 
My  neighbors  knew  my  grit,  an'  they  knew  that 
dog'd  protect  me,  an'  they  felt  safer'n  though  they 
kept  their  silver  themselves.  But  I  don't  want  no 
more  war. 


28  SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

"My  father  and  mother  was  from  Germany, 
and  I  never  had  no  stuck-up  notions  about  work,  so 
I  worked  with  my  needle,  and  six  months  before  the 
war  broke  out,  I  bought  Jane  for  twelve  hundred 
dollars  in  gold,  I  had  earned  at  the  end  o'  the  needle, 
but  now  she's  free,  an'  I  aint  a  carin'  for  that,  but 
thar's  my  hard  work  gone.  I  don't  take  no  stock  in 
slavery  now.  Jane's  the  only  one  I  ever  owned,  and 
since  the  surrender,  I've  been  to  New  York  every 
year  to  get  goods,  an'  I  see  the  difference  'tween  free 
labor  an'  slave  labor.  An'  I  tell  you,  slavery's  what's 
been  the  curse  of  this  country,  and  we  didn't  get  to 
know  it,  'til  we'd  been  beat  nearly  as  fine  as 
powder. 

"I  maae  a  rebel  flag  once,  that  cost  a  hundred 
dollars,  all  of  silk,  and  the  Yanks  fought  and  took  it, 
and  I  aint  carin'  fur  that.  I  see  now  the  leaders  in 
that  war  was  all  wrong.  They  thought  we  could 
split  off  from  the  north.  I  tell  you,  they  might  as 
well  think  of  doing  without  one  eye;  an'  I  think  it's 
like  provoking  Providence  to  go  on  hating  the  North, 
when  nearly  everything  we  wear  on  our  backs, 
comes  from  there. 

"An'  jest  let  me  tell  you,  when  I  went  into  a 
Yankee  kitchen,  an'  see  the  things  they  used  there, 
it  was  like  a  new  world  to  me.  I  didn't  know  the 
names  of  half  the  traps  they  had  to  cook  with;  two 
story  kettles  to  cook  things  by  steam,  and  ranges  to 
burn  hard  coal  in,  and  here  we  mostty  have  our  fire 
places,  and  a  few  pot  hooks  and  cranes,  such  as  their 
great-grandmothers  used  a  hundred  years  ago.  I 
tell  ye  slavery's  dun  it !  An'  that  aint  ajl  it's  dun, 


DOGS.  29 

neither. 

"Here's  our  young  men,  all  they're  brought  up 
to's  to  pitch  quoits,  an'  hunt  foxes,  an'  ride  around 
fur  the  nigs  tu  wait  on,  an'  they  haint  been  fetched 
up  tu  think  they  ought  tu  work;  and  the  gals  aint 
a  bit  better — afraid  tu  wash  and  iron  fur  fear  o'  low- 
erin'  their  dignity.  I  tell  ye,  when  God  put  Adam 
and  Eve  in  the  garden,  an'  told  'em  to  dress  it,  they 
had  tu  work  for  a  livid ',  and  didn't  have  nobody  to 
order  around  neither;  and  the  good  book  says,  'if  any 
would  not  work,  neither  should  he  eat,'  and  the 
sooner  we  git  at  it  the  better. 

"Here's  swarms  of  our  girls,  good,  and  kind, 
and  all  o'  that,  but  they  scarcely  know  how  to  git 
into  their  close,  without  some  Chloe,  or  Aunt  Lu- 
cinda  to  help  'em; an'  there  up  North  the  women  are 
book-keepers,  and  telegraphers,  and  saleswomen,  and 
teachers.  Why  it  jest  beats  all  my  'rithmetic,  to  see 
how  they  get  around,  and  they  drive  horses  for 
themselves  too.  Think  o'  that!  I  bet  nobody  south 
o'  Mason  an'  Dixon's  line'd  think  o'  ridin'  if  they 
couldn't  have  a  coachman.  That's  what's  the  mat 
ter. 

"I  was  born  in  Georgia,  an'  I  aint  ashamed  o' 
my  state  nuther;  but  I  tell  you,  afore  I  went  North 
an'  seen  'em  work,  I  didn't  know  much  more  about 
it  'an  a  last  year's  crow's  nest;  an'  wen  I  went  onto 
them  western  farms,  an'  see  'em  histin'  nigh  onto  a 
ton  o'  hay  into  a  great  barn  that  looked  like  one  o' 
our  meetin1  houses,  and  two  men  a  duin'  with 
the  new-fangled  machinery,  more'n  ten  niggers 
would  du  here,  I  sez  that's  ivorkiri '.  An1  books  an1 


3°         SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

larnin'  helps  'em  tu;  book  larnin1  don't  make  men 
set  up  above  theyselves  by  no  means;  it  jes  larns  'em 
how  tu  du  things. 

"Well,  thinks  I,  wen  I  get  back,  I'll  give 
all  a  piece  o1  my  mind  about  work.  Jes  tu  see 
how  contented  like  them  hired  men  was;  an'  wen 
they  come  into  the  house,  the  minute  they  sot  down 
tu  rest,  they  had  a  book  or  a  paper,  an'  wen  we  sot 
down  tu  the  table  every  one  on  'em  sot  down  an1  eat 
with  the  family.  An'  tu  hear  'em  talk  so  kind  o' 
learned  like,  I  jest  declar'  tu  you  now,  I  tho't  some 
on  'em  wuz  preachers,  they  had  so  much  larnin'. 
An'  there  they  wuz  a  teachin  school  in  winter,  an'  a 
workin'  on  farms  in  summer,  'n  no  one  tho't  any  the 
less  on  'em.  An'  now  /  say  let  them  northerners 
come  on  yer,  an'  let  'em  live  among  us,  the  more  the 
better;  'n  ef  they  can't  find  no  other  place  to  roost, 
they  may  mash  my  bread  an*  meat  all  winter" 

The  dog  had  stealthily  made  his  appearance 
again,  and  was  behind  his  mistress'  chair,  his  hair 
rising  like  a  porcupine  airing  his  quills,  and  evident 
ly  going  for  the  school  ma'am. 

"Thar!  take  that,"  said  the  mistress,  giving  him 
a  slap  with  her  press  board,  as  she  drew  it  from  the 
sleeve  of  a  dress  she  was  pressing,  "an'  now  come 
yer,  an'  be  introduced  to  the  lady." 

The  dog  that  had  whined  away  with  his  tail 
drooping,  turned  instantly  and  obeyed  his  mistress, 
putting  his  nose  on  our  clothing  when  told  to,  and 
wagging  his  tail,  showing  signs  of  pleasure,  and 
said  his  mistress,  "Ye  must  guard  'em,  an'  mustn't 
bite  'em.  D'ye  hear?  An'  now  git?  at  which  he 


DOGS.  3 1 

went  under  the  house  with  a  bound,  and  we  were 
told  to  'tote  a  biscuit'  for  him,  when  we  came  into 
the  yard. 

By  this  time,  Jane,  the  former  slave,  and  a  fine 
looking  woman  she  was  too,  had  risen  to  go. 

"There,  take  that,"  said  the  former  mistress, 
giving  her  a  piece  of  money. 

"Thankee,  ma'am,"  said  Jane.  "Good  evenin', 
miss.  Good  evenin',  ma'am.  I's  mightily  obleeged 
tu  ye." 

"That  gal,"  continued  the  woman,  "is  a  better 
Christian  'an  I  am.  Ef  I  get  sick,  'long  comes  Jane 
tu  see  me.  I  never  struck  her  a  lick  in  my  life, 
though  she  wuz  mighty  peart  sometimes.  No  worse 
'n  I'd  be,  ef  I'd  been  sold  an'  bo't  an'  toted  round, 
her  ole  man  in  one  place  an'  she  in  another. 

"Laws!  let  the  by-gones  go;  but  I  never  did  see 
no  religion  in  goin'  back  on  the  Lord  'cause  he  made 
more'n  half  the  people  some  other  color'n  white! 
'Taint  half  o'  this  world  that's  white,  now  is  it? 
'Pears  like  it's  ahead  o'  my  'rithmetic.  There's  the 
Chinese,  they  aint  white,  an'  there's  heaps  o'  others, 
they  tell  me,  sides  the  Injuns,jthat's  red,  or  yaller,  or 
sunthin';  an'  I  jes  don't  see  no  use  o'  fallin'  out  with 
God,  cause  he  didn't  ax  us  what  color  he  should 
make  people. 

"Actions  is  what  duz  the  bizziness;  all  else  aint 
wo'th  a  stuffed  'possum  skin.  'Taint  all  our  people, 
you  min',  as  is  quarrelin'  cause  folks  aint  so  white  as 
they  is;  but  there  is  a  set  of  'em,  women  an'  gals,  an' 
men  tu,  'taint  no  wise  'spectin'  tu  du  much  but  loll 
round  in  good  close,  an'  read  Scott's  novels  an'  sich. 


32         SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

An'  I'm  sick  o'  the  hull  bizziness." 

With  a  "good  evening,"  we  left  the  industrious 
southern  woman  pounding  her  flat-iron  on  her  press- 
board,  vigorously,  her  niece  running  her  Boston  sew 
ing  machine  with  a  will,  and  her  monstrous  cat 
asleeep  near  her,  in  a  basket  of  cotton  seed. 


POOR   WHITE,   CHEWING  A  DIP-STICK. 


33 


CHAPTER    IV. 


DIP-STICKS. 

"How  d'ye,  ma'am,"  says  a  bright  little  girl  of 
eight,  with  a  woolly  head,  and  coal-black  skin,  and  a 
stick  three  inches  long  protruding  from  her  mouth. 
"I  cum  by  de  gum  tree  dis  mornin',  to  bring  you 
some  dip-sticks — tooth  brushes,"  says  the  little  Af 
rican,  handing  me  a  bundle  of  small  sticks. 

"What  did  you  say  they  were,  and  what  are 
you  doing  with  the  one  in  your  mouth,  child?" 

"Dis  yer  one,  ma'am?  Jes  chewin'  some  snuff, 
dey  giv  me  up  to  de  big  house.  Miss  Sallie  an' 
all  de  white  'uns  dips,  an'  Massar  Jim  dun  giv  me  a 
dime  tu  buy  snuff  wid,  an'  I  dun  bought  a  heap  fur 
Chloe  an' me;  hev  shore!  Don'  dey  dip  up  at  de 
Norf,  ma'am?"  said  the  little  snuff  chewer,  aston 
ished  at  the  marks  of  disgust,  which  by  this  time 
amounted  to  loathing,  in  the  countenance  of  her 
northern  friend. 

A  teacher  sitting   near   by,   said,   "The  child  is 

34 


DIP-STICKS.  35 

correct.  Miss  Sallie  and  the  white  ones  do  chew 
snujf 'on  the  end  of  such  sticks,  and  so  do  most  of  the 
white  southern  ladies.  I  never  saw  more  than  two 
or  three  who  would  speak  against  it.  Yesterday  1 
saw  Miss  Armstrong,  who  wore  an  elegant  silk  dress, 
made  in  the  height  of  style,  with  just  such  a  stick  in 
her  mouth,  and  saw  her  take  out  her  stick,  and  snuff 
box,  and  dip  the  stick  into  the  snuff,  and  chew,  and 
dip  again;  and  I  saw  Miss  Sallie  taking  an  afternoon 
nap,  with  her  dip-stick  in  her  mouth." 

One  end  of  the  stick  is  chewed  until  it  resem 
bles  a  small  brush,  then  dipped  into  the  snuff,  and 
chewed  and  dipped  with  evident  satisfaction;  and  in 
parlor  and  in  kitchen,  in  street  and  in  church,  I  have 
seen  the  practice  prevail.  In  fact,  like  the  bow-wow 
meat  of  China,  it's  the  custom  of  the  country.  The 
old  geographies  used  to  say  the  productions  of 
North  Carolina  were  tar,  pitch,  turpentine,  and  lum 
ber,  but  if  asked  what  are  the  productions  of  the 
country  now,  we  should  say  tobacco  and  whisky,  in 
this  part  of  the  country. 

Axiss  Armstrong,  a  member  of  a  Christian 
church,  and  a  lady  high  in  society,  invited  us,  when 
we  called  there,  to  take  a  whisky  toddy  to  keep  the 
chills  off;  and  when  for  the  twentieth  time  we  re 
fused,  and  told  her  the  church  at  home  would  turn 
her  members  out  for  drinking  toddies,  and  rather 
than  drink  toddies  we  would  shake  until  all  our  teeth 
flew  out.  She  was  amazed  at  such  radical  teetotalism, 
and  still  clinging  to  her  ideas  of  good  breeding, 
says: 

"Well,  you  know  where  the  jug  is;  it's  there  by 


36         SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

the  side  of  the  molasses  jug;  help  yourself." 
Oh!  how  we  wished  for  some  Samson  to  carry 
off  these  barriers  of  worse  than  heathenish  customs, 
and  deluge  this  land  with  temperance;  and  we  make 
bold  to  say: 

"Madam,  you  are  on  the  crater  of  a  volcano  that 
threatens  to  engulf  you  and  all  your  dear  ones,  with 
these  fumes  of  toddies.  The  dip-sticks  and  all  are 
conjured  up  from  the  bottomless  pit  to  ruin  you, 
and"— 

"Who  pays  you  for  lecturing,"  says  my  south 
ern  lady  friend.  "Have  a  dip-stick?" 


CHAPTER    V . 

"OLE   MISS." 

"If  you  'uns'll  get  a  driver,  you  can  have  my 
carriage  and  a  pair  o'  mules,  to  go  and  visit  ole  Miss 
Sumpert.  She's  sent  word  to  me,  to  have  you  all 
come  and  see  her.  She  takes  mightily  to  the  north 
ern  people.  You'll  see  the  trees  with  the  union 
soldiers'  names  cut  on  'em,  as  you  go  through  the 
pines.  'Twas  Grierson's  raid,  ma'am,  that  wen 
through  these  parts,  and  hefore  I'd  see  another  war 
they  might  take  niggers  an'  white  trash,  cotton 
mules,  an'  all,  ma'am.  Them's  my  sentiments  about 
war!  The  Yanks  wa'nt  a  bit  worse  than  our  men 
It  was  all  war.  If  they  wanted  victuals,  they  had  to 
have 'em,  whether  we  had  anything  left  or  not;  and 
war  in  a  country,  means  starvation  generally,  I 
reckon. 

"You  all  don't  need  to  talk  to  mc^  about  free  la 
bor  bein'  the  best,  though.  You  ought  to  been  down 
to  the  cotton-gin  to-day,  an'  seen  'em  work.  Dennis, 

37 


38       SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

and  Saul,  and  Arthur  and  a  few  more  of  'em,  turned 
off  more  work  to-day,  of  paid  labor,  than  a  whole 
gang  of  'em  did,  at  the  end  o'  the  lash  a  few  years 
ago." 

'Twas  the  old  planter  talking,  with  his  broad- 
brimmed  hat,  and  homespun  clothes  on.  He  had 
been  overseeing  the  work  of  paid  laborers,  who,  in 
stead  of  a  peck  of  corn  meal  a  week,  and  two  suits  of 
clothes  a  year,  as  in  slave  times,  expected  to  have 
their  pay  at  the  end  of  the  week ;  and  although  not 
working  much  himself,  was  around  among  his  men, 
and  really  pleased,  to  think  paid  help  was  better  than 
slave  labor. 

"Fool!  as  I  have  been,  and  all  the  rest  of  us, 
down  here!  We've  been  feeding  a  gang  of  slaves, 
an'  had  'em  to  take  care  of,  and  doctor  when  they's 
sick,  and  no  end  to  the  expense  o'  runnin'  'em,  and 
here  paid  labor  is  more  profitable  than  all  of  it. 
They  work  better,  and  I  feel  better  about  it,  that's  a 
fact;  an'  I'd  lie  if  I  didn't  say  so. 

"But  here  comes  Parson.  He'll  drive  over  to 
the  old  lady's.  It's  nine  miles  as  the  crow  flies.  May 
be  you'll  find  some  o'  the  streams  a  little  rough  to 
cross;  but  you  all'll  have  a  good  time,  an'  ye  can 
take  one  o'  the  hounds  along  to  protect  ye.  That's 
our  custom.  A  dog's  a  useful  animal  down  yer." 

A  corduroy  road  nearly  half  the  way,  built  of 
round  logs,  lying  so  close  as  to  touch  each  other, 
built  by  the  soldiers  in  war  time.  We  went  bump 
ing  over  it,  our  mules,  and  black  driver,  a  young 
Methodist  Episcopal  preacher,  all  in  style,  though 
we  declined  taking  the  dog.  Oh,  the  road!  When 


UOL,E    MISS.  39 

we  left  the  corduroy,  we  found  ourselves  so  deep  in 
mud,  we  wished  we  were  bumping  on  it  again;  and 
when  we  were  on  it,  we  thought  the  mud  prefer 
able. 

Soon  we  saw  the  names  of  soldiers,  hundreds  of 
them,  cut  in  the  bark  of  trees,  five  years  ago: 
Company  I.  New  York  Volunteers,  E.  S.,  Company 
E.  Illinois  Cavalry.  Some  of  them  had  been  de 
faced,  but  most  of  them  were  cut  high  up  on  the 
trees,  and  would  doubtless  stand  many  years  to  come. 

"Dem's  de  people  as  fought  for  we  'uns,"  was 
the  interpretation  of  the  black  driver.  "Dem's  Mas- 
ser  Lincum's  men." 

Arriving  at  the  old  lady's,  as  most  of  her  neigh 
bors  called  her,  we  found  a  widow,  of  about  seventy 
years,  living  alone,  with  only  her  former  slaves 
around  her.  She  too,  had  found  paid  labor  the  best*, 
and  so  kind  was  she  to  her  help,  that  none  of  them 
could  be  hired  to  leave  her.  They  were  so  attentive 
to  her,  that  her  wish  was  their  law.  Some  of  them 
were  paid,  and  still  lived  in  their  cabins,  as  in  slave 
times;  others  worked  a  part  of  her  land  on  shares; 
all  seeming  to  value  "Ole  Miss,"  and  defer  to  her 
wishes,  as  to  a  mother. 

Her  large  plantation  house,  with  its  white 
washed  walls,  and  wide  fire-place,  filled  with  fra 
grant  pine  boughs,  was  not  furnished  in  great  style; 
but  the  old-fashioned  splint  bottomed  chairs  were 
comfortable,  and  we  rested.  At  table  we  had  the 
usual  dish  to  please  northerners,  viz.  fried  chicken, 
with  its  accompaniment  of  sweet  potatoes  and  corn 
bread;  behind  our  chairs,  as  is  the  invariable  custom 


40          SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

South,  a  waiter  standing,  ready  to  pass  our  glasses  of 
milk,  or  help  us  to  anything  on  the  table. 

"I  tell  my  people,"  said  our  hostess,  "now 
they're  free,  and  they  can  go  if  they  want  to,  and 
work  for  themselves;  but  every  one  of  them  'stick 
by,'  and  it  'pears  like  they  can't  spare  me,  and  /can't 
spare  them" 

Ah!  here  was  the  secret  of  holding  them  by 
love.  "Ole  Miss"  was  to  every  one  of  them  as  a 
mother,  and  the  outcropping  of  this  too  scarce  arti 
cle,  in  this  world,  didn't  stop  with  me  and  mine. 

After  we  had  dined,  and  were  sitting  on  the 
veranda,  she  continued: 

"There  is  the  smoke-house  I  hid  a  sick  Yankee 
soldier  in,  for  six  months,  until  he  got  well  enough 
to  go  up  North  after  the  surrender,  and  I  took  care 
o'  the  southern  soldiers,  too." 

Noble  woman!  The  prince  of  peace  had  found 
too  deep  a  lodging  place  in  that  soul,  to  be  affected 
by  war;  and  wherever  she  saw  a  fellow  creature/she 
saw  some  one  to  bless  and  benefit. 

"Every  wise  woman  buildeth  her  house,"  said 
one  of  the  teachers  on  our  homeward  ride.  "Yes; 
but  do  you  think  these  former  slave-holders  would 
succeed  as  well  in  governing  by  love  as  she?  They 
might  try  it;  perhaps  it  wouldn't  fill  their  coffers  so 
fast,  but  the  woman  has  the  'true  riches,'  with  her 
soul  full  of  love  to  every-body.  She's  rich  anyway." 

"Dat's  jes  so,"  chimed  in  the  young  colored 
preacher . 


CHAPTER    VI. 

AUNT     PEGGY. 

"How  d'ye,  ma'am!  I  cum  tree  mile  dis  morn- 
in',  tu  tell  ye  de  Lawd  stood  by  me  last  night,  an'  he 
tell  me  you  all  is  safe!  He  aint  gwine  tu  let  ye 
get  'sturbed  by  de  white  'uns,  honey.  You  jes  go 
on  teechin'  de  skule,  an'  de  good  Massa  tote  you  in 
his  bosom. 

"I  got  shoutin'  happy  last  night,  an'my  ole  man 
says,  'Peggy,  what  ails  ye?'  I  says,  (Ole  man,  wake 
up!  de  Lawd  is  yer!  He  done  jes  filled  me,  an'  he 
aint  gwine  tu  let  dat  are  skule  be  broke  up.'  Hon 
ey,  de  Lawd  jes  showed  me  how  he  shet  de  lions' 
mouths,  an'  he  got  ye  all  in  de  holler  ob  his  hand; 
dey  can't  touch  a  hair  o'  you  heads.  Hallelujah! 
Massar  Jesus  got  sumthin'  tu  du  wid  dis  skule.  You 
jes  go  on  teechin',  honey.  De  Lawd  dun  sent  de 
angels,  tu  stan'  by  ye.  He  cover  ye  wid  his 
feathers." 

A  prayer-meeting — fifty  black  people — some 
41 


COPY    OF    A    KU-KLUX     LETTER. 

Scipio. 
Miss  W 

We  send  you  a  picture  of  the  way  we  treated 
a  Yankee  school  ma'am  in  this  county  last  year. 

Beware  lest  you  shear  the  same  fate. 

Regnlaters. 
42 


AUNT    PEGGY.  43 

gray-headed,  who  were  stolen  from  Africa  when 
they  were  infants;  some  whose  mothers  had  been 
sold  and  run  off  to  the  sugar  plantations,  before  they 
were  a  year  old.  Ah!  how  such  had  learned  to  pray 
Now  the  school  had  been  threatened  by  Ku  Klux. 
A  letter  had  been  written  to  a  teacher,  with  the  pict 
ure  of  a  white  girl  tied  to  a  tree,  and  a  man  standing 
on  each  side,  with  an  overseer's  whip,  laying  strokes 
on  her  back.  "On  the  side  of  their  oppressors  there 
was  power."  Under  the  picture  was  written, 
"This  is  the  way  we  serve  northern  ''nigger  teach 
ers?  Beware!  lest  you  shere  the  same  fate."  This 
is  not  a  fancy  picture,  reader,  but  an  actual  fact. 

Old  Aunt  Emeline  begins  the  prayer-meeting 
by  singing  in  the  old  slavery  wail,  trotting  her  foot 
to  keep  time,  and  all  join  in  singing,  swaying  their 
bodies  from  side  to  side,  as  if  overwhelmed  with 
grief. 

"'Rastlin'  Jacob!  an'  I  will  not  let  thee  go! 
'Rastlin'  Jacob!  an'  I  will  not  let  thee  go!" 

Still  wailing  out  the  song,  they  fall  upon  their 
knees,  and  with  sobs  and  prayers,  tell  Jesus  about 
"dem  people  who's  tryin'  tu  brake  up  de  skule." 

"Masser  Jesus,  put  dy  hand  ober  our  teachers. 
Jesus,  aint  you  de  same  God  as  took  Jonah  out  ob  de 
belly  ob  de  whale?  Shine  in  our  hearts,  Masser 
Jesus,  and  help  us  tu  lub  our  enemies.  Ain't  you  de 
same  God  as  'livered  Dan'l  from  de  den  ob  lions? 
'Liver  us,  good  Lawd,  an'  tote  us  in  yo'  bosom,  an' 
hedge  us  'bout,  an'  plant  us  out  anew  fur  de  king- 
dum.  Masser  Jesus,  set  down  de  right  foot  ob  dy 
power  hea?  !  an'  keep  dis  skule  in  de  holler  ob  you' 


44          SEVEN     YEAKS     AMONG    THE     FKEEDMEN. 

hand.      Cum    dis    way,    Masser,  an'  bind  us  all  in  de 
bundle  ob  life." 

A  brickbat  or  two  thrown  into  the  school-yard 
just  here,  but  the  singing  and  praying  go  on.  A 
young  preacher  who  began  to  lead  the  meeting,  falls 
over,  and  lies  like  a  dead  man  until  long  past  mid 
night.  Two  or  three  others  fall  under  the  power 
of  God,  and  loud  shouts  of  glory  rend  the  night  air. 
The  aged  gray-haired  preacher  calls  on  the  teacher 
to  read  from  the  good  book,  and  a  little  hush  is  made 
while  she  reads: 

"For  the  oppression  of  the  poor,  for  the  sigh 
ing  of  the  needy,  now  will  I  arise,  saith  the  Lord;  I 
will  set  him  in  safety  from  him  that  puffeth  at  him." 
— Ps.  xii.  5.  "All  my  bones  shall  say,  Lord,  who  is 
like  unto  thee,  which  deliverest  the  poor  from  him 
that  is  too  strong  for  him,  yea,  the  poor  and  the 
needy  from  him  that  spoileth  him?" — Ps.  xxxv.  10. 
"The  Lord  is  good,  a  stronghold  in  the  day  of  trou 
ble;  and  he  knoweth  them  that  trust  in  him."- — Na- 
hum  i.  7.  "For,  behold,  the  day  cometh,  that  shall 
burn  as  an  oven;  and  all  the  proud,  yea,  and  all  that 
do  wickedly,  shall  be  as  stubble." — Malachi  iv.  I. 
"But  I  say  unto  you,  Love  your  enemies,  *  *  *  pray 
for  them  which  despitefully  use  and  persecute  you." 

"Dat's  it,"  says  old  Uncle  Harvey.  "Read  dat 
again.  Dat's  what  Ps  a  doin'.  I  done  tote  young 
masser  in  my  bosom  now  dese  forty  years,  an'  he 
mighty  peart  tu  me;  but  I  lubs  him,  an'  I's  tellin' 
Jesus  'bout  hiiti.  I  aint  gwine  tu  guv  up,  till  I  hear 
him  callin'  on  Jesus  tu  save  his  soul.  Ps  wantin 
him  tu  turn  tu  de  stronghold,  'fore  de  day  ob  tribu- 


AUNT      PEGGY. 


45 


latiou  cum.  Lawd,  turn  de  sinner  man, an'  give  him 
a  hang-down  head,  an'  a  heavy  heart,  'til  he  find 
Jesus.  Let  de  waters  ob  salvation  tru  his  soul,  an 
wash  away  all  de  devil's  lies;  drive  ole  Satan  out  oh 
dis  country,  an'  chain  him  down  in  de  pit  of 'struc- 
tion  where  he  'longs,  an'  save  de  poo'  sinner  man 
for  Jesus'  sake." 

Soon  the  fallen  ones  begin  to  wake  up,  shouting 
"glory!"  and  all  shake  hands  vigorously.  Surely, 
the  dove  of  peace  sits  on  the  dusky  faces  of  these 
who  have  taken  the  kingdom  of  heaven  by  violence. 

Aunt  Peggy  was  right,  and  the  school  went  on 
until  the  end  of  the  year,  and  closed  with  an  exhi 
bition,  at  which  some  of  the  ex-slaveholders  sat, 
listening  to  scholars  who  had  learned  to  read  well  in 
one  short  year.  Here  we  taught  a  young  woman, 
who  walked  twenty-five  miles  to  find  a  school,  and 
learned  the  alphabet  perfectly  in  three  days.  Here 
were  taught  young  colored  preachers,  who  had  been 
preaching  some  time,  but  couldn't  read  a  word,  and 
their  conferences  had  now  voted  they  should  learn  to 
read. 


CHAPTER     VII. 


HOMEWARD    BOUND. 

Our  first  year  of  school  is  over.  We  have 
taught  over  two  hundred  colored  people,  only  two 
lady  teachers,  of  all  ages,  sizes,  and  colors,  from  jet- 
black  to  pure  white-looking,  and  many  of  the  class 
called  by  the  jet-black  ones  "yaller  ones."  We  have 
lived  in  an  old  school  building,  used  for  a  white 
school  in  slave  times,  now  a  harbor  for  rats  by  day, 
and  dogs  by  night.  We  have  cooked  much  of  our 
food,  because  we  couldn't  eat  food  cooked  the  way 
our  cook  prepared  it.  We  have  either  cooked  by  a 
fire-place,  such  as  was  used  a  hundred  years  ago  in 
the  northern  states,  or  done  worse,  paid  an  enormous 
rent  for  an  old  shell  of  a  smoky  stove,  almost  always 
using  green  pine  wood.  No  one  seems  to  think  it 
worth  while  to  keep  wood  seasoned  and  cut,  ready 
for  use;  and  we  have  never  seen  a  wood-house  in  the 
South.  Now  the  school  is  done,  and  the  people 
have  come  to  say  good-by's.  We  are  to  start  at 


HOMEWAKD    BOUND  47 

four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  for  another  twenty-five 
mile  ride,  this  time  in  a  large  carriage  the  planter 
has  never  had  out  of  his  carriage-house  since  the 
surrender.  A  closed  carriage,  with  a  seat  on  the  top 
for  a  driver. 

"Dennis'll  drive  for  ye,  ma'am,"  says  the  plant 
er.  "I'll  trust  him  with  the  team  before  I  would 
myself.  Be  ready  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning; 
reckon  you  all  will  want  your  time  to  drive,  before 
the  heat  o'  the  day  comes  on." 

Next  in  order  is  a  prayer-meeting,  to  pray  for 
our  safe  journey  home.  They  pray  for  everything 
we  shall  ever  need,  if  we  live  a  thousand  years. 
They  remind  Masser  Jesus  of  all  his  promises. 

"Lawd,  don'  ye  say  you'll  stan'  by  dem  as  trusts 
in  ye?  Cum  right  down  yer  now,  Masser  Jesus,  an' 
take  a  walk  troo  dis  country,  an'  see  what  de  debbil's 
duin'  in  de  kingdom." 

"Lawd,  place  blessings  by  de  wayside  fur  our 
teachers." 

"Tote  'em  safe  down  de  stream  o'  time,  Masser 
Jesus,  an'  let  de  ole  ship  o'  Zion  Ian'  'em  high  up  in 
heaven,  an'  crown  'em  dine." 

"Lawd,  plant  'em  out  anew  fur  de  kingdom,  an' 
w'en  dey  can't  do  no  mo',  give  'em  a  happy  hour  tu 
die,  an' seat  'em  at  dy  right  hand  in  de  jedgment;" 
varying  the  exercises  with  songs,  such  as, 

"Sinner,  you'd  better  watch  an'  pray, 

An'  keep  yo'  garments  clean, 
Ef  you  don'  mind  you'll  fall  in  hell, 

An'  judgment'll  roll  between." 

A  minister  gives  a  short  exhortation,  wants  all 


KEV.   It.   D. 


HOMEWARD    BOUND.  49 

to  keep  ready  to  meet  the  teachers  in  heaven,  reads 
the  parable  of  the  foolish  virgins,  says  the  virgins 
must  have  had  their  lamps  once  lighted,  or  they 
never  could  have  gone  out!  Says  also,  that  back 
sliders  have  got  into  the  ignorant  part  of  God's 
glory!  All  are  solemn  and  tearful;  but  the  good- 
by's  can't  be  described. 

Here  is  a  boy  we  once  saw  drunk,  lying  in  the 
road,  and  his  mother  came  and  carried  him  away; 
now  he  is  a  member  of  our  temperance  society. 
Here  are  over  a  hundred,  large  and  small,  who  have 
joined  the  temperance  society  during  the  year,  and 
many  give  evidence  that  they  have  oassed  from 
death  unto  life. 

"The  carriage  is  ready,  ma'am."  The  children 
are  giving  us  great  bouquets,  and  some  give  us  cakes 
and  candy,  and  the  blacks  almost  push  each  other, 
for  the  privilege  of  stowing  our  luggage.  The 
good-by's  come  between  sobs  and  tears.  Some  reach 
up  to  touch  our  hands,  after  we  are  seated  in  the 
carriage,  and  one  calls  out,  "My  God,  is  they  gone!" 

As  we  drive  off,  some  one  starts  in  the  old 
slavery  wail, 

"Zion's  ship  is  on  the  ocean, 
Zion's  ship  is  on  the  ocean, 
Zion's  ship  is  on  the  ocean, 
Bound  for  Canaan's  happy  shore." 

Two  things  we  have  asked  to  be  kept  from  dur 
ing  the  year,  are  snakes  and  dogs.  We  see  the  first 
snake  just  as  we  begin  to  see  the  sunrise;  a  large 
black  snake,  near  the  road.  It  gets  away  speedily. 

Three   miles  on  our  journey,  and  a  halloo  an- 


50          SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

nounces  to  us  that  we  are  followed  by  one  of  our 
young  men  scholars — Robert,  a  young  Methodist 
Episcopal  preacher,  has  determined  to  go  North 
with  us  to  get  an  education.  Some  of  the  white  peo 
ple  have  found  it  out,  and  all  night  he  has  been  hunted 
by  those  who  have  threatened  to  kill  him.  He  rides 
a  mule,  has  lost  his  hat,  and  left  all  his  books  and 
most  of  his  clothing  behind.  One  of  the  teachers 
pays  his  fare,  and  he  comes  on  with  us. 

Jackson,  Tennessee — the  end  of  our  first  day's 
railroad  travel.  No  trains  have  passed  out  of  this 
place  for  three  days.  There  is  a  strike  on  the  road. 
Many  passengers  and  trains  are  waiting.  The 
workmen  claim  they  haven't  had  their  pay  for  two 
years,  and  as  our  train  nears  the  depot,  a  committee 
of  three  or  four  men  loosen  the  engine,  and  run  it 
into  an  engine  house  near  by.  Two  or  three  hun 
dred  of  excited  people  are  on  the  platform,  and  all  is 
confusion. 

We  go  to  the  nearest  hotel,  and  to  another,  and 
another,  but  everywhere  are  refused  a  night's  lodg 
ing,  or  a  meal  of  victuals.  We  go  back  to  the  train. 
Evening:  Lamps  lighted  in  the  cars.  Passengers, 
all  but  us,  seem  to  have  found  some  place  for  the 
night.  Soon  we  hear  the  familiar  title,  "nigger 
teachers  /"  hissed  out  near  us.  The  conductor  tells 
us  there  are  soldiers  on  board  the  train,  who  have 
come  to  guard  the  engines.  He  brings  the  head 
officer  of  the  staff  to  us;  we  show  him  the  commis 
sions  of  the  American  Missionary  Association  recom 
mending  us  to  the  protection  of  the  government,  and 
immediately  we  are  under  guard.  Enter  the  post- 


HOMEWARD    BOUND.  51 

master  on  the  train — a  northern  gentleman.  He  tells 
us  the  people  of  this  place  say  they  have  never  sur 
rendered.  Instantly  he  comprehends  the  situation. 
Some  outside  are  calling  out  our  names.  Pounding 
on  the  cars,  some  one  calls  out, 

"Miss  W-  — ,  Miss  T ,  you'd  better  come 

out.  There's  goin'  to  be  a  nigger  killed!" 

The  soldiers  raise  the  window,  and  threaten  to 
shoot  the  next  man  who  moves  his  tongue  against  us. 
The  postmaster,  with  his  arms  full  of  velvet  cush 
ions  off  the  seats,  followed  by  one  or  two  colored 
helpers,  proceeds  to  fit  up  the  postal  car,  and  soon 
orders  our  trunks  into  it,  and  we  follow  him  out  of 
doors,  and  around  to  the  end  of  the  car.  The  mob 
by  this  time  has  increased;  but  one  soldier  is  behind 
us,  another  near  by,  and  the  brave  postmaster  is  fully 
armed.  He  makes  a  way  through  the  crowd,  and 
we  are  locked  into  our  quarters  among  the  mail 
bags,  and  could  sleep  if  we  knew  what  had  become 
of  Robert,  and  if  the  mercury  was  not  up  to  90°, 
and  ihefaas  'would  keep  still.  As  it  is,  we  hear  the 
mocking-birds  and  whip-poor-wills  sing  all  night, 
and  the  soldier's  "who goes?"  if  any  one  passes.  Our 
food  is  cooked  at  a  cabin  near  by,  and  brought  to  us 
by  a  colored  girl. 

Just  at  dark,  the  fifth  day  of  our  imprisonment, 
a  lady  comes  on  board  the  train,  guarded  by  a  soldier. 
She  has  heard  of  our  situation,  and  comes  to  invite  us 
to  spend  the  night  with  her,  out  in  a  house,  half  fall 
en  down,  where  she  lives  alone.  She  is  a  teacher  of 
freedmen;  has  a  pass  from  Governor  Brownlow,  to 
go  where  she  pleases,  and  pleases  to  stay  in  this 


52          SEVEN     YEARS     AMONG    THE    FKEEDMEN. 

place,  because  her  only  son,  all  she  has  left  since  the 
war,  is  a  soldier,  and  quartered  here. 

We  thought  we  had  seen  poverty  before,  but 
here  is  abject  poverty;  no  comforts  in  her  room,  no 
Bible.  Her  education  is  so  poor  she  can  hardly  talk 
correctly.  She  tells  us  she  has  never  studied  gram 
mar;  wants  us  to  spend  the  night  with  her,  and  help 
her  teach  the  school  on  the  morrow.  The  woman, 
in  her  endeavors  to  have  us  enjoy  our  prison  life, 
•fairly  outdoes  herself;  gives  us  her  small  couch,  suit 
able  only  for  one  person,  finds  a  blanket  or  two 
among  the  freed  men,  brings  in  a  lamp  and  a  few 
sticks,  lights  a  fire,  and  asks  us  to  read  our  Bibles 
and  have  family  worship.  Together  we  read,  and 
draw  water  from  the  wells  of  salvation.  God  seems 
so  near  we  don't  either  fear  or  feel  lonely.  The 
new-found  friend  rolls  herself  up  in  a  blanket, 
lays  her  loaded  revolver  by  her  pillow,  and  lies 
on  the  floor  at  night,  saying,  "I've  often  done  it 
since  that  war,"  and  gives  us  two  teachers  her  bed. 
Morning:  Our  food  is  provided  by  some  of  the  f reed- 
men — a  few  biscuits,  coffee,  and  milk.  We  eat  in 
singleness  of  heart,  and  are  thankful.  We  have  at 
least  found  Christian  companionship,  and  we  go  into 
the  school  and  teach  for  an  hour  or  two;  but  soon  a 
colored  man  comes  to  inform  us  we  are  being  fol 
lowed  and  are  unsafe,  and  we  go  back  to  our  car 
and  remain  another  day  under  guard. 

In  the  evening,  a  lady  closely  veiled,  and  guard 
ed  by  a  soldier,  comes  on  the  train  to  see  us — a 
northern  woman,  bound  for  New  York — a  sympa 
thizer  with  us.  She  proposes  a  walk  around  the 
fortifications.  The  next  day,  we  three  ladies,  with  a 


HOMEWARD    BOUND. 


53 


soldier  following  not  far  from  us,  go  out  to  view  the 
earth- works  and  rifle-pits;  not  as  much  to  see  the 
lions,  as  to  get  fresh  air.  We  are  returning  to  our 
train,  but  on  the  way,  stop  at  the  hotel  where  the 
lady  boards,  and,  for  a  few  moments,  rest  in  her 
room.  The  proprietor  of  the  hotel,  very  soon 
knocks  at  the  door,  calls  the  lady  into  the  hall,  and 
tells  her  he  will  not  have  us  in  his  house;  and  if  she 
associates  with  nigger  teachers,  she  must  also  leave 
his  house.  He  says  we  ought  to  marry  niggers,  and 
quite  a  little  more  of  that  kind  of  talk. 

We  are  now  three  ladies  on  the  train,  under 
guard.  For  nine  successive  days  and  nights  we 
have  endured  the  tropical  heat,  but  our  courage  holds 
out.  Many  have  been  on  the  train  to  see  us,  much 
as  we  have  seen  animals  exhibited  in  a  menagerie. 
Men  and  women  have  come  in  and  passed  through 
the  cars,  looking  at  us,  as  if  we  were  there  for  show. 
To  all  who  would  accept  them,  we  have  given  tracts, 
and  most  of  them  go  away  reading. 

Sunday  morning:  Everybody  going  to  church 
we  think.  A  Methodist  minister  makes  his  appear 
ance,  bowing,  and  telling  us  who  he  is;  points  to  his 
house,  not  far  away,  and  asks  us  if  we  will  go  home 
with  him  and  rest;  or,  if  we  would  like  to  go  to 
church  with  his  family,  we  are  at  liberty  to  do  so. 
He  sits  on  the  steps  of  the  car,  and  talks  of  schools 
for  the  people,  both  colored  and  white;  wants  to 
know  if  we  could  send  him  teachers,  and  wants  to 
know  how  northern  schools  are  taught,  and  many 
other  things  we  gladly  tell  him.  Here,  at  last,  is  a 
person  who  has  tlTe  best  sense  of  all,  common 
sense. 


54          SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

He  says,  "The  time  is  soon  coming,  madam, 
when  the  North  and  South  must  forgive  each  other, 
and  we  must  have  free  schools  and  paid  labor.  The 
white  people  South  need  to  be  emancipated  from 
wrong  ideas  about  many  things,  on  this  school  question 
and  work.  Brotherly  love  and  good-will  ought  to 
be  in  all  our  borders,  and  he  who  won't  be  governed 
by  these  principles,  ought  to  be  made  to  submit  to 
good  laws,  be  they  black  or  white.  Slavery  has 
been  like  the  deadly  upas,  in  all  our  country,  madam- 
No  man  can  domineer  over  his  fellow,  without  it's 
being  an  injury  to  himself.  Free  schools  are  to  help 
us  out  of  this  mixed  question.  We  must  have  them. 
Ladies,  I  am  really  sorry  for  your  discomfort  so 
long  in  this  close  car;  and  if  you  will  go  to  my 
house,  you  shall  be  entirely  safe  and  quite  welcome." 

We  thank  him,  and  decline  his  hospitality,  pre 
ferring  not  to  run  further  risks. 

As  all  things  come  to  an  end  in  time,  on  the 
tenth  day  -the  strike  is  over.  The  train  is  about  to 
pull  out,  when  our  colored  young  preacher  makes 
his  appearance.  Some  of  the  people  have  offered 
him  twenty-five  dollars  to  leave  the  teachers  and 
stay  with  them ;  but  he  prefers  to  continue  his  jour 
ney  northward,  and  is  allowed  to  ride  in  the  smoking- 
car.  Several  hundred  people  are  on  the  platform ; 
as  th  train  is  to  move  on,  some  attempt  to  open  the 
door,  and  find  it  locked.  The  soldiers  are  on  duty, 
and  safely  we  leave  the  Jackson  friends,  to  meet 
them,  perhaps,  in  another  world.  Who  shall  say 
where?  "Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of 
the  least  of  these  my  brethren,  ye  have  done  it  unto 


CHAPTER   VIII. 


FROM  CAIRO  TO  NEW  ORLEANS. 

We  came  by  steam-boat  from  Cairo,  Illinois,  to 
this  southern  city,  a  distance  of  twelve  hundred 
miles  by  steamer;  not  so  far  by  railroad.  The 
Mississippi  river  is  so  low,  we  heard  a  man  say  it 
didn't  look  larger  than  a  mill-race,  and  the  pilot's 
messenger,  who  measured  the  water  very  often,  to 
see  if  it  was  deep  enough  for  the  boat  to  pass,  called 
out,  "Seven  feet  scant,"  one  evening.  Our  boat  was 
a  large  one,  with  three  decks.  The  lower  deck  was 
like  a  floating  barn,  for  there  was  a  large  quantity 
of  hay  in  it;  also,  about  a  hundred  horses  and  mules, 
and  nearly  fifty  Germans  or  Swedes,  apparently  of 
the  very  poor  class.  As  they  could  understand 
English,  we  had  the  pleasure  of  "going  below,"  as 
the  captain  said,  who  seemed  astonished  when  we 
asked  him  for  the  privilege. 

"Four  hundred  barrels  of  lime  are  stowed  down 
there,"  said  the  captain,  who  politely  helped  us 

55 


56         SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

down,  remarking,  he  "didn't  see  why  we  wanted  to 
git  among  them  mules  and  their  drivers." 

We  told  him  we  were  hunting  jewels,  and  as  he 
saw  our  bundle  of  the  American  Tract  Society  am 
munition,  he  lifted  his  hat  and  said,  "My  mother 
was  a  Christian." 

After  that  we  had  the  freedom  of  the  boat,  and 
as  we  went  to  and  fro,  speaking  to  one  and  another 
on  the  great  question,  "What  must  I  do  to  be  saved?" 
we  heard  him  saying  to  the  mate  of  the  boat: 

"I  don't  know,  but  I  think  they're  nigger 
teachers,  for  every  nigger  on  board  lifts  his  hat  to 
'em." 

Our  big  bundle  of  tracts  diminished  as  the  eager 
hands  reached  out  for  them,  and  many  a  "God  bless 
you!"  came  from  the  people  in  the  hold,  who  took 
special  care  not  to  let  the  mules  molest  us.  There 
we  saw  mothers  from  Germany,  going  to  their  sons 
in  New  Orleans,  who  had  come  to  our  free  country 
years  ago,  and  out  of  their  scanty  earnings  had  paid 
the  fare  of  their  parents  to  get  them  to  America. 
How  scantily  they  were  clothed,  and  how  glad  to 
take  tracts  printed  in  the  German  language.  There 
were  sisters  going  to  the  South  to  find  brothers,  who 
thought  their  lives  would  be  easier  in  a  free  country 
than  where  a  king  ruled. 

"The  work  is  more  plenty,  ma'am,  and  pay  bet 
ter  than  in  our  country,"  said  one. 

As  we  came  up  on  deck,  two  southern  ladies 
were  talking  to  each  other,  and  with  a  look  of  su 
preme  scorn,  one  picked  up  the  trail  of  her  dress  and 
shook  it  at  us,  the  other  spat  towards  us,  but  with 


FROM    CAIRO    TO     NEW    ORLEANS.  57 

the  joy  of  the  Master  almost  bubbling  into  hallelu 
jahs,  we  looked  up  and  saw  the  American  flag 
waving  at  the  forward  end  of  the  boat,  and  we  knew 
we  were  in  a  free  country. 

"Down  here  a  lookin'  after  our  niggers"  said 
the  woman  who  had  shaken  her  trail  at  us,  the  trail 
was  of  calico,  as  we  passed  up.  Soon  one  of  us  took 
her  seat  at  the  piano,  and  we  heard  the  mate  say,  "If 
I  had  their  edication  I  wouldn't  mind  that" 

\Vhen  we  arrived  at  Memphis  it  was  Sabbath 
evening,  and  we  went  on  shore,  and  to  church.  In 
the  vestibule  of  the  church  was  a  running  fountain 
of  pure  cold  water.  A  little  girl  was  drinking  as  we 
went  in,  and  offered  us  glasses  of  water.  We 
thought  it  a  lovely  way  to  receive  strangers.  After 
church,  we  went  to  our  boat,  and  to  our  little  state 
rooms,  opening  out  of  the  beautiful  cabin,  at  one  end 
of  which  sat  a  number  of  men  playing  cards,  with  a 
big  black  bottle,  and  two  or  three  glasses  on  the  ta 
ble.  We  thought  we  could  see  " Beware!"  printed 
on  the  bottle,  as  we  heard  an  oath  from  one  of  the 
men. 

While  we  were  asleep,  our  boat  started  down 
the  river,  and  in  the  morning  we  saw  only  poplar 
trees,  with  once  in  a  while  a  lonely  looking  cabin, 
with  a  few  black  children  playing  near  it. 

The  children  on  the  boat  thought  nine  days  a 
long  time  to  stay  off  the  land,  but  soon  had  a  half 
day's  recreation,  for  the  wind  blew  such  a  gale,  there 
was  danger  of  the  waters  blowing  on  the  lower  deck 
and  slaking  the  lime;  so  the  captain  stopped,  and  a 
party  of  men,  women  and  children,  went  on 


5  SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

shore  to  see  a  sugar  plantation.  Before  we  got  to 
the  "fields  where  the  sugar-cane  grew,"  we  saw 
large  trees  full  of  pecans,  the  small  brown  nuts  we 
buy  at  the  groceries  at  home.  The  planter  who 
came  out  to  meet  us  told  the  children  they  could  have 
all  they  were  a  mind  to  pick  up,  and  they  rilled  pock 
ets,  and  some  of  them  hatfuls.  The  sugar  house 
was  a  long,  low  building,  whitewashed  inside  and 
outside,  containing  many  deep  vats  in  which  to  store 
the  juice  of  the  sugar-cane;  all  very  clean  looking. 
A  little  colored  boy  and  girl  were  there,  with  hands 
full  of  sugar-cane,  cut  in  pieces  as  long  as  your  fin 
ger,  out  of  which  they  sucked  the  juice,  and  also  sup 
plied  us.  Teddie  declared  it  was  as  good  as  candy. 

We  went  into  the  house  of  the  planter,  after  he 
had  told  his  two  big  dogs  to  lie  down,  which  they 
did,  and  a  tall  black  woman,  with  a  red  handker 
chief  on  her  head,  brought  us  glasses  of  milk  on  a 
waiter.  As  we  went  back  to  the  boat  we  passed 
near  the  negro  quarters,  a  long  row  of  whitewashed 
rough  buildings.  Many  of  the  colored  people  stood 
outside  their  doors,  and  some  made  bows  to  us,  and 
said,  "How  d'ye,"  the  usual  salutation  for  "How  do 
you  do?"  in  the  South. 

When  we  got  back  to  the  boat,  the  polite  plant 
er  had  sent  a  box  of  pecans  on  board,  for  the  chil 
dren  to  crack  at  their  leisure ,  and  the  little  ones  had  a 
fine  time  eating  their  sugar-cane,  and  cracking 
pecans. 

"How  strange  it  is!"  said  a  northern  man; 
"these  southern  people  use  such  splendid  manners, 
and  are  so  hospitable,  but  here  it  is  six  years  after  the 


FROM    CAIRO    TO    NEW    ORLEANS.  59 

close  of  that  horrid  war,  and  if  you  attempt  to  teach 
a  colored  person,  they'll  have  nothing  to  do  with 
you,  and  wonder  what  you're  down  here  interfering 
with  'our  niggers'  for." 

New  Orleans:  In  the  war  of  1812  General  Jack 
son  saved  this  city  by  piling  cotton  bales  in  a  wall  of 
breastworks  along  the  harbor,  which  were  impervi 
ous  to  British  guns. 

Our  grandfather  used  to  tell  us  when  a  big  cot 
ton  merchant  grumbled  about  their  taking  his  cotton, 
the  general  handed  him  a  gun,  and  told  him  to  go 
and  defend  his  cotton. 

We  judge  from  the  cotton  bales  along  the  shore> 
there  is  nothing  doing  in  any  other  business.  Each 
cotton  merchant  has  a  small  flag  flying  from  his  own 
bales  of  cotton.  All  the  flags  are  of  a  different  color* 
so  the  appearance  is  as  of  a  hundred  Fourth  of  July's. 

Ships  of  all  nations  are  lying  in  the  harbor. 
Colored  people  seem  to  be  doing  most  of  the  work; 
they  are  everywhere,  trundling  wheelbarrows,  car 
rying  loads  of  things  large  enough  for  a  mule,  on 
their  heads.  Here  comes  a  tall  woman,  as  black 
as  night,  with  a  monstrous  basket  of  ironed  clothes, 
balancing  it  on  her  head,  and  walking  as  straight  as 
a  pine  tree;  colored  women  for  nurses  and  for  wash 
women,  for  cooks  and  chamber-maids,  for  dress 
makers  and  maids  of  all  work. 

This  is  a  city  of  168,000  people,  we  are  told,  and 
by  the  number  of  sisters  of  charity  we  see  in  the 
street,  we  wonder  if  they  are  all  Catholics.  The 
nice  little  streams  of  water  running  each  side  of  the 
streets,  are  the  work  of  a  general  in  the  war  just 


60          SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG     THE 


closed.  Many  thousands  of  inhabitants  were  glad 
to  get  government  employment,  and  they  made  these 
sewers;  so  the  general's  works  praise  him,  if  the 
people  don't. 

Orange  trees  are  growing  in  the  yards,  laden 
with  fruit,  and  blossoms  are  on  them  too.  We  see 
colored  boys  carrying  trayfuls  of  brown-looking 
fruit  on  their  heads,  and  crying,  "Here's  your  sweet 
Jamaica  oranges!" 

The  health  officer  tells  us  we  can't  go  on  to 
Texas,  as  we  expected,  for  the  boats  are  in  quaran 
tine,  because  of  yellow  fever. 

"Come  home  with  me,"  says  a  kind-faced  wom 
an,  whose  acquaintance  we  have  formed  on  the  boat; 
"my  family  have  all  had  the  fever,  and  I  know  how 
to  treat  it.  We  have  seen  the  time,"  she  continued, 
"when  there  were  not  well  ones  enough  to  take  care 
of  the  sick,  and  once  when  my  nephew,  husband, 
and  two  children  were  sick,  I  went  to  the  front  gate 
to  see  if  I  could  find  a  watcher.  The  only  person  I 
saw  was  an  old  colored  man.  'How  much  will  you 
charge  to  watch  to  night,  Uncle?'  'Five  dollars, 
ma'am.'  It  was  the  only  chance  I  had  for  help.  I 
gave  the  directions  about  the  medicines,  and  left  him 
with  Harry.  In  the  night  I  heard  a  tremendous 
noise,  and  ran  in.  Harry  had  thrown  a  boot-jack  at 
his  nurse  to  waken  him.  But  the  best  of  it  was,  we 
all  got  well." 

I  forgot  to  mention  that  at  Natchez  there  were 
five  persons  sick  with  yellow  fever,  near  the  landing, 
and  seven  had  died  the  day  before.  At  Vicksburg 
the  streets  were  strewed  with  lime,  and  fifty  guns 


FROM    CAIRO    TO    NEW    ORLEANS.  6l 

were    fired   every    morning    as    sanitary     measures. 

A  colored  woman  showed  us  a  yellow  fly  which 
always  makes  its  appearance  before  the  yellow  fever 
comes. 

The  sisters  of  charity  have  hospitals  and  nurses 
trained  to  treat  yellow  fever  patients,  and  we  are 
told  their  charges  are  often  a  hundred  dollars  per 
week,  but  that  they  often  raise  their  patients. 


UNCLE  HARVEY. 


CHAPTER      IX. 


THANKSGIVING    AMONG    THE    BLACKS. 

A  large,  barn-like  church,  whitewashed  on  the 
outside,  benches  of  rough  boards,  windows  without 
glass,  and  rough  board  shutters  to  admit  the  light; 
colored  people  of  all  shades  of  complexion,  from  jet- 
black,  to  flaxen-haired,  rosy-cheeked  little  girls,  with 
blue  eyes;  but  all  pass  for  colored  people.  The 
church  is  well  filled,  men  sitting  on  one  side,  women 
on  the  other,  all  singing  with  enthusiasm : 

"I'm  going  down  Jorden, 
Going  down  Jorden, 
Going  down  Jorden, 
To  never  return  again." 

After  the  singing,  a  gray-haired  black  man, 
born  in  AfrLa  more  than  seventy  years  ago,  begins 
the  sermon  thus: 

"Friends  and  fellow  sinners!  the  powers  dat  be, 
has  invited  us  to  jine  in  thanksgiving  an'  we  is  mighty 
glad  to  be  able  to  respond ;  for  ef  dere  is  a  people 
which  has  a  right  to  be  thankful,  it  is  we  poor,  low- 

63 


64          SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

down  'uns,  which  aint  neber  had  noffin'  in  dis  world. 
Bein'  poor  down  herein  dese  low  grounds  ob  sorrow, 
don't  cut  me  out  ob  a  house  and  lot  in  heaben;  an' 
my  house  thar  is  made  ob  all  manner  ob  jewelry  dat 
heaben  can  afford.  De  blessed  Master,  he  was  poor, 
too,  though  he  took  his  hand  an'  throwed  out  de 
curtain  ob  de  universe,  he  didn't  hab  whar  to  lay  his 
head.  Let's  al)  pack  up  an'  go  to  glory! 

"Bredren,  I  aint  much  time  to  tarry  here.  I's  a 
runnin'  for  de  prize!  When  we  git  to  dat  heabenly 
atmosphere,  we'll  sing  de  doxology  for  eber.  Now? 
let  ebery  one  of  you  all  stop  stealin',  an'  live  as  dis 
free  people  ought  to.  How  hard  some  of  you  work 
to  get  land,  an'  property.  Let  me  offer  you  a  piece 
ob  land  in  glory!  Is  it  a  healthy  country?  Yes; 
nobody  ever  dies  thar.  Bime-by,  de  great  Master'll 
say,  'Gabriel !  blow  shrill  and  easy,  an'  wake  up  all 
my  people  fust.'  Den  he'll  say,  'Michael!  tell  my 
people  to  step  out  on  de  right  hand.'  Den  you'll 
know  which  side  you  is  on ;  an'  ef  you  is  on  de  right 
hand  side,  you'll  play  de  golden  harp  ob  de  New  Je 
rusalem  for  eber. 

"Bredren,  less  be  thankful  for  what  we  has,  an' 
more  'specially  for  our  freedom,  an'  live  with  'specta- 
tions  ob  de  glorious  home;  an'  lets  tote  our  burdens 
here  a  little  longer,  an'  bime-by  we'll  set  down  wid 
Paul,  for  he  went  to  glory  in  de  chariot  ob  salva 
tion,  de  fore  wheels  a  rollin5  in  de  grace  ob  God,  an' 
de  hind  wheels  a  rollin'  in  love. 

"De  audience  please  rise  an'  sing,  an'  take  de 
partin'  hand,  an'  be  dismissed. 

"Bredren,  de  text   is    'Be   thankful.'     Set  your 


THANKSGIVING    AMONG    THE    BLACKS.  65 

minds  on  it,  an'  remember  dis   is   an  inquisition  into 
citizenship! 

"De  audience  rise  an'  sing  an'  be  dismissed: 

"  'Roll,  Jorden,  roll;  roll,  Jorden,  roll. 
You'd  better  be  sittin'  in  de  kingdom, 
To  hear  ole  Jorden  roll.'  " 


CHAPTER    X. 


AUNT    FANNY. 

A  woman  field-hand — used  to  getting  up  before 
daylight,  at  the  sound  of  the  overseer's  horn,  cook 
ing  her  breakfast  of  hoe-cake  and  bacon,  the  hoe- 
cake  made  of  corn  meal  and  water,  baked  on  a  hoe, 
taking  the  remnants  of  her  breakfast  into  the  field 
for  dinner,  and  with  the  heavy  plantation  hoe,  falling 
into  line  with  the  gang,  one  chained  to  another,  leav 
ing  the  baby  with  twenty  other  babies  at  a  cabin,  for 
one  woman  to  care  for  them,  and  marching  off  to  the 
field  to  hoe  cotton  or  corn. 

Now  the  field  hand,  at  six  dollars  per  month, 
and  her  board,  cooks  for  the  northern  teachers.  Her 
home  is  in  a  cabin  in  the  rear  of  the  school-mam's 
home.  Northern  teachers  are  obliged  to  keep  house 
at  the  South  mostly,  as  no  one  cares  to  board  them. 

The  only  thing  Fanny  can  cook  well,  is  corn 
bread,  but  she  learns  to  cook  light  bread, 
cookies,  and  gems,  and  her  former  missus  at  the 
big  house  gets  a  taste  of  her  cookies,  and 
wants  the  receipt  for  them,  also  sends  for  the 

66, 


AUNT    FANNY.  67 

sack  patterns  the  teachers  wear,  and  wants 
to  know  who  made  our  hats.  We  gladly  send  her 
the  desired  pattern,  and  tell  Fanny  to  inform  her  old 
missus  we  made  our  own  hats. 

Fanny  reports,  "de  missus  tanks  ye  all  fur  de 
cookies,  an'  w'en  I  tell  her  ye  made  ye  own  hats 
you'selves,  she  jes'  cried,  tu  see  dem  '-nigger  teach 
ers'  gwine  ahead  o'  she;  an'  she  says  people  as 
works  is  jes'  as  good  as  dem  dat  laze.  An'  Miss 
Sallie  wants  tu  know  whar  ye  all  get  sich  a  heap  o7 
larnin'?" 

We  inform  Miss  Sallie,  through  Fanny,  that 
our  learning  was  mostly  obtained  at  the  free  schools 
at  the  North;  that  we  had  nothing  to  pay  for  it. 

Again  Fanny  reports: 

"Ye  jes'  ought  tu  see  how  she  took  on  'bout  it; 
dun  said  de  free  schools  mout  a  been  down  yer  tu,  ef 
it  hadn't  a  been  fur  de  leaders  in  dat  war!  Dey  all 
wrong,  spite  o'  Stunwall  Jackson's  prayin'  an'  all  de 
rest  on  'em.  Free  schools  don'  hurt  white  nur  black, 
an'  she  jes'  'gun  tu  see  it.  'Spec's  Miss  Sallie's 
wantin'  tu  cum  tu  de  school  herself,  am  shore." 

Fanny  learned  to  cook  "right  smart,"  as  she 
termed  it,  but  spoiled  all  our  morning  naps,  for, 
"just  as  the  twig  is  bent,  the  tree's  inclined,"  and 
long  before  daylight,  she  would  be  up  smoking  her 
cob  pipe,  and  singing: 

"Go  down  Moses, 

Way  down,  to  Pharioh's  Ian', 

Tell  ole  Pharioh, 

'Let  my  people  go,'  " 

or  some  plantation  song.  In  vain  did  we  try  to 
teach  her  that  we  must  have  our  rest  in  the  morning, 


68  SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

as  we  taught  night  school,  and  we  were  unused  to 
rising  before  daylight.  She  would  be  hacking  kind 
lings  under  the  house,  which  stood  up  five  feet  from 
the  ground,  on  sections  of  timber,  or  pounding 
around  at  break  of  day.  But  Fanny  was  a  diamond 
in  the  rough ;  for  after  we  had  been  home  on  a  va 
cation,  and  returned,  she  hastened  to  tell  us  she  didn't 
have  no  peace,  "'til  she  found  Masser  Jesus,  an'  she 
dun  took  him  for  her  king,  foreber." 

Tally  one  for  Jesus.  Lord,  polish  this  black 
gem,  until  she  shall  shine  in  thy  diadem  forever. 
"And  they  shall  come  from  the  east,  and  from  the 
west,  and  from  the  north,  and  from  the  south,  and 
shall  sit  down  in  the  kingdom  of  God." — Luke  xiii. 
29. 

RESURRECTION  SONG. 
"I  hear  my  Jesus  say, 
'Father,  these  are  mine 
Coming  up  through  great  tribulation 

From  every  grave-yard.' 
Oh,  just  to  behold  that  number! 
Oh,  just  to  behold  that  number! 

From  every  grave-yard." 
"In  that  judgment  day. 
I'll  hear  my  Jesus  say, 
'Go  down  and  wake  my  nations, 

From  every  grave-yard. ' 
Oh,  rise,  every  nation! 
Oh,  rise,  every  nation! 

From  every  grave-yard. 
"I'll  see  my  mother  there, 
Who  used  to  jine  in  prayer, 
Coming  up  through  great  tribulation, 

From  every  grave-yard. 
Oh,  just  to  behold  that  number! 
Oh,  just  to  behold  that  number! 
From  every  grave-yard. 


AUNT    FANNY.  69 

"Put  on  your  !ong  white  robe, 

And  wear  the  starry  crown, 

Walk  up  and  down  dem  golden  streets, 

From  every  grave-yard. 
Oh,  just  to  behold  that  number! 
Oh,  just  to  behold  that  number! 

From  every  grave-yard. 

"Put  on  your  silver  slippers, 
And  wear  the  starry  crown, 
Come  slippin'  an'  a  elidin'  dem  golden  streets, 
From  every  grave-yard." 


CHAPTER    XI. 

TWO    PICTURES. 

"Ef  you  please,  ma'am,  de  colonel  done  sent  de 
carriage  fur  ye,  an'  says  come  over  to  Sister  Lucy's; 
she's^mighty  bad  off;  done  dropped  a  big  lamp,  and 
burned  herself  most  to  def." 

Black  Sam  stood,  hat  in  hand,  while  a  pair  of 
mules  and  a  carriage  were  near  by.  A  short  ride 
brought  us  to  the  hut  of  the  poor  woman,  who  was 
moaning  pitifully,  while  many  colored  women  were 
standing  around,  and  a  beautiful  white  woman  was 
fanning  the  sufferer,  and  intent  on  carrying  out  the 
doctor's  orders,  who  had  just  gone.  Summoning  a 
colored  girl  to  the  next  room,  we  asked,  "Who  is 
this  white  lady,  and  why  don't  she  read  to  Lucy  ?" 

"She's  her  ole  missus,  ma'am,  lives  in  de  big 
white  house  over  yon';  but  she  can't  read." 

With  the  sufferer  groaning  out  prayers  for 
mercy,  and  the  white  missus  plying  her  fan,  and 
giving  the  sympathy  of  her  kind  heart,  and  the  room 

70 


TWO    PICTURES.  yi 

lined  with  colored  women,  who  stood  around  the 
wall  like  statues,  we  read  as  requested,  "Let  not 
your  heart  be  troubled,"  and  wondered  at  the  depth 
of  ignorance  that  could  keep  so  good  a  missus  from 
learning  to  read. 

Day  after  day  we  called  to  read  at  the  bedside, 
until  death  came  to  the  relief  of  the  sufferer. 
********* 

"Please,  ma'am,  come  in  and  see  Miss  Annie, 
and  ask  her  tu  let  me  go  to  your  school;  come  right 
in;  de  dogs  aint  gwine  tu  touch  ye." 

She  held  the  gate  open,  and  drove  back  two  or 
three  great  hounds,  that  were  barking  at  a  deafen 
ing  rate. 

On  our  way  up  the  lane  she  explained  to  me, 
"Missus  done  keep  me  in  slave  times  totin'  milk,  an' 
pickin'  cotton,  an'  now  de  black  'uns  is  free,  an' 
gwine  tu  de  skule  'cept  us  'uns,  an'  'pears  like  we 
hev  tu  tote  all  de  milk,  an'  pick  de  cotton,  an'  work 
jes'  de  same.  Don'  see  no  difference  'tween  slave 
times  an'  freedom ;  but  honey,  you  jes'  ax  her  tu  let 
we  'uns  go  tu  de  Sunday-school,  an'  I  reckun  dere'll 
be  right  smart  chance  o7  us  gettin'  dere  'fore  long." 

Poor  Chloe!  we  spoke  a  good  word  for  her, 
and  obtained  half  a  promise  from  the  missus,  who 
kept  her  colored  people,  now  that  they  worked  for 
wages,  as  strictly  as  when  in  slavery,  that  the  eager 
girl  should  go  to  school.  But,  alas!  for  human  prom 
ises.  We  never  saw  her  except  when  she  was 
"totin' "  milk  to  the  customers  of  her  mistress. 

After  vacation,  on  our  return  to  the  school,  one 


72  SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

said  to  us,  "Chloe's  dun  gone  home,  an'  she  made 
'em  bury  de  nice  Bible  you  gave  her  in  de  coffin  wid 
her,  an'  said  you  should  meet  her  in  heaven.  Miss 
Annie's  mighty  sorry  she  didn't  let  her  go  tu  de 
skule,  an'  she's  mighty  feared  she'd  see  Chloe's 
ghost,  ef  she  didn't  min'  ebery  word  she  said,  an' 
she  hadde  Bible  buried  wid  her.  Afore  Chloe  died 
she  sung, 

"  'Swing  low,  sweet  chariot, 
I's  goin'  to  leave  you  now.' 

"An'  den  she  done  went  tu  sleep,  an'  I  reckon 
Miss  Annie's  mighty  sorry  she  didn't  let  her  go  tu 
de  Sunday-school,  nohow." 


CHAPTER     XII. 


LETTER    WRITING. 

"Ef  you  please,  ma'am,  yere's  Aunt  Cassie's 
Tom  wants  tu  git  ye  tu  write  a  letter  fur  him  tu  his 
sweetheart;  he's  feared  tu  ax  ye,  an'  I  jes'  cum  tu 
tell  ye 'bout  it,  so's  he'll  git  tu  hear  from  her;  he 
aint  had  no  word  from  her  sence  de  surrender,  an' 
he's  feared  she's  gone  back  on  him  for  shore." 

Tom,  a  field  hand,  with  his  slouch  hat  in  hand, 
bowing,  and  scraping  his  right  foot,  until  one  would 
think  it  was  a  queen,  instead  of  Yankee  school 
ma'ams  he  is  being  introduced  to,  sits  in  the  nearest 
chair,  in  a  scared  kind  of  manner,  and  begins: 

"A  love  letter,  ma'am,  an'  I  don't  know  jes' 
how  tu  git  at  it;  but  'pears  like  ye  can't  git  it  any  tu 
luvin'.  You  jes'  write  while  I'm  tellin'  it  off: 

u<My  Dear  Tabitha  Jane:  I  aint  heered  nothin' 
frum  ye  in  so  long,  I's  feared  ye  is  dead,  an'  I  can't 
keep  my  min'  so's  to  eat  my  vittals,  'cos  you  didn't 
send  me  no  letter  dis  long  time  no  ways.  My  dear 

73 


74         SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

sweet  sugar-plum,  I  luvs  ye  better'n  a  magnolia,  so 
I  duz.  Ye  know,  honey,  I  luvs  ye  better'n  corn- 
pones.' 

"An'  well  now,  teacher,  you  jes'  tell  off  de  rest 
on't,  fur  I  'druther  hoe  cotton,  or  tote  brush  'n  tu 
write  letters,  bein'  I  aint  nowise  used  tu  de  bizziness; 
but  be  sure  an'  git  it  as  luvin'  as  ye  can.  Aint  no 
danger  o'  gittin'  it  tu  luvin1. 

"Teecher,  duz  ye  'specs  dis  chile  kin  rite  like 
dat  are  ye's  a  doin'?  An'  what'll  becum  o'  dese  yer 
people,  wot  nebber  let  us  1'arn  nothin'?  Dey  done 
kep'  us  a  workin'  day  an'  night,  an'  neber  guv  us  a 
chance  tu  larn  nothin'!" 

Here  the  young  lover  broke  down,  and  actually 
cried  like  a  baby,  to  think  he  couldn't  write,  and 
must  needs  get  some  one  to  write  to  Tabitha  Jane, 
away  in  another  state,  and  must  get  some  one  to 
read  her  letters  to  him. 

In  due  time  the  letter  was  finished,  though  we 
found  this  rather  new  business  for  teachers,  and  won 
dered  if  the  missionary  society  who  sent  us  to  work 
for  the  freedmen,  would  approve  of  our  writing  love 
letters. 

Tom,  with  the  promise  of  being  taught  how  to 
read  and  write,  went  away,  and  we  heard  him  going 
down  the  lane,  singing: 

"Way  down  upon  de  Swanee  riber, 

Far,  far  away, 
Der's  where  my  heart  am  turning  eber, 

Der's  whar  de  ole  folks  stay." 

It  is  Saturday,  and  no  end  to  letter  writing . 
Here  comes  a  real  old  slave  mother,  with  marks  of 
sorrow  so  inwrought  on  her  face,  that  instinctively 


LETTER    WRITING.  J$ 

we  rise  and  give  her  a  chair  in  the  corner  by  the  fire. 

"Never  min',  ma'am,"  she  says;  "Aunt  Suke 
aint  carin'  where  she  sets,  ef  she  gits  ye  tu  write  dis 
lettah!" 

She  brings  a  sheet  of  dirty  foolscap,  and  a  big 
yellow  envelope. 

"What's  the  address,  ma'am?" 

"Ellen  Cummins;  least  dat  'was  her  name,  w'en 
dey  dun  toted  her  off  to  Florida." 

"How  long  ago?  And  where  shall  I  direct  to, 
Auntie?" 

"Jes'  Ellen,  tu  Florida,  ma'am;  dat's  all  I 
knows.  An'  she  was  fo'  yea's  ole,  w'en  dey  dun 
took  her  from  me.  Twenty  yea's  ago,  dey  say  it  is, 
ma'am.  An'  honey,  duz  ye  t'ink  I  eber  heered  de 
wind  a  blowin',  an'  de  rain  a  fallin',  w'en  I  didn't 
wonder  ef  my  chile  wuz  housed,  an'  whar  she  wuz?" 

"Didn't  you  ever  hear  from  her,  Auntie?  I  fear 
my  letter  won't  reach  her,  if  you  don't  know  what 
town  and  county  to  direct  to." 

"Dat's  what  dey  all  say;  an'  I  don't  git  no  satis 
faction  uv  any  o'  de  teachers,  ivritin*  tu  her"\  and 
the  sorrowful  woman  began  rocking  herself  from 
side  to  side,  and  crying  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 

This  was  too  much  for  one  of  the  teachers,  who 
rose  from  her  seat  at  ^the  writing  table,  and  left  the 
room.  At  length,  after  many  kind  words  and  sug 
gestions,  the  letter  was  written,  and  directed  to  Flor 
ida,  with  the  half  guessed  address,  and  request  that 
the  postmaster  should  forward  it ;  and  the  auntie  left* 
after  taking  a  cup  of  tea  and  lunch,  with  perhaps  a 
shade  less  of  sorrow  than  when  she  came,  but  with 


76          SKVKN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

the  longing  look  in  her  eves,  which  for  twenty  years 
had  been  looking  for  Ellen. 

"Another  letter?" 

"Yes'm,  ef  you  please.  Dis  yer's  tu  my  brud- 
der  in  ole  Virginny.  I's  got  de  direction,  shoo,  an' 
he  aint  heered  from  me  sen'  de  surrender.  Recken 
he'll  stan'  a  chance  tu  see  me  sum  time,  ef  de  good 
Lawd  spares  my  life.  You  please  begin,  ma'am 

" 'Dear  Jack:  I  is  well,  an'  duin'  well,  an'  hope 
dese  few  lines  fin's  you  enjoy  in'  de  same  gre't  blessin'.  I's 
mighty  well  pleased  wid  freedom,  an'  I  find  it  means 
freedom  tu  work  a  heap  tu,  an'  I  aint  gwine  back  on 
work  by  no  means,  an'  I  aint  turned  into  one  o'  dem 
triflin'  no  count  niggers,  as  can't  aim  dere  salt,  an' 
aint  wuth  a  coon  skin.  I's  mighty  well  pleased  tu 
git  my  eatin'  by  de  'sweat  o'  my  face,'  like  de  good 
book  sez,  Genesis  iii.  19;  an'  all  I  ax  o'  ole  masser's 
tu  jes'  keep  he  hands  off  o'  de  Lawd  Almighty's 
property,  fur  dafs  me;  an'  I's  gwine  tu  buy  a  lot, 
an'  build  me  a  hut  on  it;  an'  den,  Jack,  you  is 
wanted  down  yere,  tu  see  you'  ole  brudder.  Fur  de 
last  time  he  seed  you,  he  wuz  standin'  on  de  auction 
block,  an'  Mass'r  Bill  was  a  turnin'  he  round,  like  a 
'possum  on  de  spit,  so's  de  driber'd  see  me  fa'r  an' 
squar'.  Neber  min',  Jack.  I's  tryin' tu  let  by-gones 
go,  an'  jes'  look  out  fur  number  one;  an'  I's  power 
ful  glad  I's  a  free  man  now,  for  shore.  Come  a 
Christmas,  ef  ye  kin,  Jack.  Your  free  brudder, 

Manuel.' " 

For  the  satisfaction  of  the  reader,  we  add,  this 
letter  found  Jack  in  Old  Virginia,  and  he  traveled 
over  eight  hundred  miles  to  spend  Christmas  with 


LETTER  WRITING.  77 

the  brother  from  whom    he    parted    at    the    auction 
block,  nearly  twenty  years  before. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 


A  BARBECUE. 

Uncle  Seth's  going  to  roast  an  ox  whole!  He's 
got  a  deep  pit  dug,  and  has  just  what  grandmother 
used  to  say  when  we  put  in  too  much  wood,  "fire 
enough  to  roast  an  ox" ;  and  he's  got  red  pepper,  and 
black  pepper,  and  vinegar,  and  stuff  enough  for  a 
small  grocery.  The  colonel  was  a  northern  man 
well  educated,  and  a  real  Christian  gentleman,  in  the 
revenue  employ  for  the  goverment.  He  lived  in  a 
fine  brick  mansion,  where  once  lived  a  man  who 
owned  four  hundred  slaves.  Here  northern  teachers 
found  a  home  of  comfort.  Here  for  two  years,  we 
rode  to  school  in  a  northern  market  wagon,  with 
black  Sam  as  driver  of  a  pair  of  fine  mules.  Eman 
cipation  day  was  to  be  celebrated,  and  the  colonel  had 
permitted  the  colored  people  to  do  the  barbecue 
work  on  his  plantation,  which  was  near  the  city. 

Uncle  Seth,  an  old  colored  man,  had  charge  of 
the  barbecue,  and  sat  up  all  night  to  keep  the  fire 

7s 


A   BARBECUE.  79 

burning.  He  built  an  arcn  of  stones  over  the  pit, 
and  by  means  of  much  fire  underneath  the  arch, 
made  the  stones  very  hot,  laid  the  meat  on  in  quarters, 
and  cooked  it,until  those  who  were  judges,pronounced 
it  "done  to  a  turn."  Swarms  of  colored  children  were 
on  hand  to  see  the  ox  barbecued,  and  ever  and  anon, 
Uncle  Seth  would  order  them  off  to  the  cabins,  tell- 
them  he  "hadn't  no  use  for  'em." 

After  we  had  slept  several  hours,  we  rose  to  look 
out  of  the  window,  and  see  the  old  man  with  his  big 
fire,  and  monstrous  fork,  attending  to  his  cooking. 
The  meat  was  as  black  as  ink,  and  had  a  flavor  of 
no  other  we  ever  tasted. 

When  the  celebration  came  off,  at  the  big  town- 
hall,  Uncle  Seth  presided  at  the  table,  where  the 
meat  was  carved,  with  evident  pride  and  satisfaction. 
Here  we  saw  many  specimens  of  fine  cake,  and  other 
southern  cookery,  and  altogether  the  patriotic  songs 
and  speeches  made  it  seem  very  like  a  Fourth  of 
July  celebration  at  the  North ;  and  what  with  banners 
waving,  and  people  marching,  etc.,  it  was  a  real  red- 
letter  day  to  the  colored  race. 


CHAP  TER   XIV. 


UNCLE  BILLY. 

Four  years  after  the  close  of  the  war, — a  Sun 
day-school  of  a  hundred  and  twenty  colored  people 
in  the  state  of  Mississippi.  We  are  singing  "In  the 
Christian's  home  in  glory,"  just  as  Uncle  Billy,  a 
venerable-looking  colored  man,  with  his  hat  in  hand, 
stands  bowing  to  us,  and  smiling  at  the  scholars,  who 
all  seem  to  know  him. 

"You're  a  little  late,"  says  one  of  the  teachers  to 
him,  "and  didn't  get  in  to  hear  the  verses  recited." 

"Yes'm ;  but  ye  see,  honey,  I's  dat  'shamed,  tu 
see  all  dese  youngsters  gittin'  on  so  mighty  fine  in 
der  books,  I's  feared  tu  cum  tu  de  skule  much.  If 
ye  please,  ma'am,  jest  guv  me  one  o'  dem  little  pict- 
ur  papers,  ye  guv  to  de  chillen,  an'  I'll  git  my  boy 
John  tu  read  it  tu  me;  an'  I'll  jes'  larn  right  smart 
from  dat  'are;  will  shore.  Ye  see,  ma'am,  I's  mor'n 
fifty  years  old ;  an' dat's  mor'n  half  a  hundred,  aint 
it?  An*  it  du  seem  as  if  it  aint  no  sort  o'  use,  fur  me 

So 


UNCLE  BILLY.  8l 

tu  larn  tu  pick  out  dem  letters, da  all  look  alike  tu  me; 
but  ef  I  du  say  it,  I  can  shoe  a  boss,  as  well  as  de  heft 
o'  blacksmiths,  but  when  it  cums  tu  larnin'  a  book,  I 
aint  no  whar. 

"Ef  ye  only  knowed  how  we  is  sufferin'  tu  larn, 
reckun  ye  all  wouldn't  get  homesick  tu  go  back  tu 
de  Norf ,  till  ye'd  teached  us  a  heap  for  shore. 

"Ole  missus  used  tu  read  de  good  book  tu  us, 
black  'uns,  on  Sunday  evenin's,  but  she  mostly  read 
dem  places  whar  it  says,  "Sarvints  obey  your  masters," 
an'  didn't  stop  tu  splane  it  like  de  teachers;  an'  now 
we  is  free,  dar's  heaps  o'  tings  in  dat  ole  book,  we  is 
jes'  sufferin'  tu  larn.  Ma'am,  ye  reckon  larnin's 
gwine  tu  make  us  onsatisfied  an'  onruly?  Tell  ye 
dafs  alia  mistake,  larnin'  puts  idees  in  people's  heads, 
an'  makes  'em  kinder  satisfied  'bout  what  da  is  doin'; 
an'  ef  dis  ole  sole  kin  in  any  way,  jes'  larn  de  readin' 
lessons  enough  tu  spell  out  de  name  ob  good  Massar 
Jesus,  den  I's  satisfied  wid  dis  lower  world,  shore,  an' 
nobody  don  hear  no  more  grumblin'  from  Uncle 
Billy,  'til  he  gits  home  tu  glory." 

We  gave  the  desired  paper,  and  after  the  day's 
toil  went  home  with  lighter  hearts,  as  we  thought  of 
the  privilege  of  teaching  those  whose  thirst  for  a 
knowledge  of  the  way  of  life,  was  so  all-absorbing; 
and  ever  and  anon  for  days,  we  thought  of  the  pleas 
ure  we  should  have  of  teaching  Uncle  Billy  to  read. 
But  alas!  the  time  never  came;  for  not  long  after  his 
visit  to  our  Sunday-school,  the  Ku-Klux  made  a 
raid  into  the  town,  and  among  a  number  who  were 
killed,  Uncle  Billy  was  the  first  one,  and  we  left  the 
school  and  the  place  until  the  reign  of  terror  was  over; 


82         SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

and  as  we  came  away,  some  one  in  speaking  of  the 
death  of  many  of  our  pupils,  whose  only  crime  was 
that  they  were  learning  fast,  and  could  vote  intelli 
gently,  *aid,  **The  martyrs  are  not  all  dead  yet,  are 
they?" 


C  H  AP  T  E  R     XV. 


LAME    JOE. 

On  Sabbath  morning,  we  were  sitting  on  the 
piazza,  sorting  Sunday-school  papers  for  the  school 
which  was  to  begin  that  day,  when  Joe  made  his  ap 
pearance  from  the  kitchen,  coming  along  the  porch 
with  a  limping,  shuffling  gait;  his  only  garments 
were  a  shirt  much  too  large  for  him,  and  minus  one 
sleeve,  and  a  pair  of  pants  so  dirty  one  could  scarcely 
tell  the  material  they  were  made  of.  He  was  a  boy 
of  twelve,  probably,  and  his  pants  were  the  cast-off 
ones  of  his  brother,  a  man  in  size,  and  hung  in  great 
slouchy  folds,  and  turned  up  at  the  bottom. 

"Can  you  read, Joe?"  said  the  teacher,  passing  a 
paper  to  him. 

"Not  yit,  ma'am;  but  Brother  Ben  can  read 
right  smart,  an'  he's  gwine  tu  teach  me  a  heap  o' 
1'arnin',  an'  I  reckon  I's  gwine  tu  1'arn  tu  read  dis 
yer'  sum  time,  shore." 

Joe  took  his  first  lesson  in  learning  bv  means  of 

83 


84         SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

the  word  method,  and  limped  off  spelling  the  word 
"so,"  and  picking  out  all  the  so's  in  his  paper.  In  a 
few  days  we  interviewed  his  mother,  and  broached 
the  subject  of  his  going  to  school ;  but  found  the 
chances  were  against  him,  for  being  the  youngest  of 
ten  children,  there  were  so  many  to  feed  and  clothe, 
she  never  got  to  Joe,  and  he  had  to  "tote  wood  an' 
water  for  her,  when  she  cooked  at  de  big  house." 

After  repeated  attempts  at  getting  Joe  started 
in  his  education,  one  of  the  teachers  set  about  clothing 
the  boy,  but  was  soon  put  to  her  wits'  end  to  find  a 
pattern  for  boy's  pants,  and  as  tailoring  was  not  her 
forte,  there  were  obstacles  to  be  overcome.  Hap 
pily  a  plan  was  hit  upon,  and  Joe  pulled  off  his  di 
lapidated  pants  and  went  to  bed,  while  his  new 
clothes  were  cut  by  the  use  of  the  old  ones  for  a  pat 
tern,  and  very  soon  the  happy  boy  was  a  daily  at 
tendant  at  school. 

A  week  or  two  of  study  passed,  when  the  gen 
tleman  who  had  provided  Joe  with  hat  and  book,  ac 
costed  him  with,  "How  do  you  get  on,  Joe?' 

"Mighty  well,  thankee;  done  got  past  the  pict 
ure  o'  de  ox;  have,  shore,  done  got  past  him.' 

No  pupil  was  more  constant  in  attendance  than 
our  protege,  and  with  rapid  strides  he  passed  the 
boys  of  his  age,  learning  well  whatever  he  studied; 
and  in  four  years  from  the  time  he  learned  his  word 
on  the  piazza,  we  left  him  doing  examples  in  higher 
arithmetic,  before  a  large  audience  of  parents  and 
friends  of  education. 

His  mother,  who  could  never  get  to  Joe,  was  de 
lighted.  She  said  Joe  had  a  stroke  of  paralysis  when 


LAME    JOE.  85 

a  baby,  and  he  could  never  be  a  farmer,  couldn't 
walk  well  enough  to  hoe,  or  plow  and  his  education 
would  make  him  independent. 

Many  of  our  pupils  in  that  school  came  to  the 
Good  Shepherd,  and  told  of  their  joy  in  the  Saviour; 
but  Joe  was  so  engrossed  with  study,  nothing  seemed 
to  move  him,  and  we  left  him  a  little  saddened  that 
he  was,  as  he  expressed  it,  "in  the  outstanding 
army." 

This  summer  while  the  yellow  fever  prevailed 
came  a  letter  from  Joe,   saying    he  had  found  Jesus 
and  taken  him  for  the   Captain  of  his  salvation;  and 
now  he  loved  everybody,  and  his  teachers  better  than 
ever,  and  amidst  all  the  fever  he  wasn't  afraid. 

Later:  The  last  we  heard  of  Joe  he  was  teach 
ing  a  school  at  forty  dollars  per  month,  and  in  a  fair 
way  to  be  one  of  the  prominent  educators  of  his 
race. 


CHAPTER     XVI. 

INCIDENTS.— WRITTEN   IN    BLOOD. 

"Right  this  way ;  take  a  good  look  at  that  man 
passing;  there  isn't  another  just  like  him  in  in  these 
parts,  ma'am,"  said  the  colonel. 

Just  after  the  close  of  the  war ,  he  wrote  a  pledge 
for  his  only  daughter,  a  girl  of  sixteen,  pledging  her 
never  to  marry  a  Yankee,  and  opened  a  vein  on  her 
arm,  and  persuaded  her  to  sign  it  with  her  own 
blood. 

****** 

"The  fathers  have  eateu  sour  grapes,  and  the  children's 
teeth  are  set  on  edge." — Eze.  xviii.  2. 

SHOUTING  AUNT    CHLOE. 

A  colored  woman  past  seventy — always  at  the 
prayer  meetings — always  shouting  happy — has  but 
one  eye,  because  at  a  prayer  meeting,  when  she  was 
jumping  and  clapping  her  hands,  she  came  down  on 
a  chair  post,  and  put  one  eye  out.  No  one  would 

86 


SHOUTING   AUNT  CHLOE.  87 

think  Aunt  Chloe  ever  missed  her  eye,  or  anything 
else.  Clad  in  poor  homespun  goods,  with  an  old 
green  sun-bonnet  on  her  head,  she  is  always  shouting, 
or  jumping,  or  praising  Massar  Jesus.  Her  life  is 
always  tuned  to  hallelujah  meter.  She  gives  us  her 
version  of  the  surrender,  as  most  of  the  blacks  call 
emancipation. 

"Honey,  whar  ye  s'pose  I  wus  when  Sherman's 
army  dun  cum  troo dese  parts?  S'pose  I'se  skeered ? 
No,  sir!  we  all  heered  dey's  cumnin'  weeks  'afo'  dey 
dun  cum,  an'  de  overseer  he  kept  slappin'  roun'  an' 
crackin'  de  lash.  S'pose  Is'e  af eared  o'  he?  He  tell 
'em,  go  on  pickin'  de  cotton.  I  jes'  picked  a  little, 
an'  den  I  got  down  under  the  bush,  an'  kep'  a  pray- 
in' 'Massar  Jesus,  send  de  Lincum  army  down  yer! 
Send  'em  down  yer,  good  Lawd!'  An'  wen  dey  all 
cum,de  balance  o'de  white  'uns,  wot  hadn't  took  tu 
de  swamps,  dey  jes'  pint  fer  de  woods;  an'  de  black 
'uns  da  brake  fur  de  quarters;  but  Is'e  on  top  o'  a 
pine  stub,  ten  feet  high,  an'  Is'e  jes'  shoutin'  *Glory 
tu  God!  take  me  wid  ye!  Glory  to  God!  Glory 
Glory!' 

An'  now  my  chillens  dun  growed  up,  an'  dey 
aims  a  bite  fur  de  ole  mammy,  so's  I  aint  spectin'  tu 
starve,  an'  Is'e  satisfide  wid  f reedum ;  don'  have  no 
trouble  in  dis  world,  only  'caus  sinners  don'  turn  tu 

Jesus. 

I  totes  mo'ners  in  my  bosom  ebery  day!  An' 
praise  de  good  Lawd,  Is'e  gittin'  on  right  smart  inde 
Sunday-skule;  am  shore." 

Aunt  Chloe  went  on  to  her  cabin  singing, 


88          SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

"We'll  walk  an'  talk  with  Jesus, 

We'll  walk  an'  talk  with  Jesus, 

So  early  in  the  morning. 

Hope  I'll  jine  the  band." 

PRAYED  THROUGH  AT  LAST. 

John  was  picked  up  by  a  teacher,  near  a  battle 
field,  and  brought  to  one  of  the  first  Freedmen  schools 
in  the  city.  From  exposure,  and  being  half  starved, 
he  had  contracted  pneumonia.  He  was  cared  for  by 
the  teacher  till  he  recovered,  and  subsequently  was 
employed  as  a  chore-man  for  some  years,  at  Emerson 
Institute,  Mobile. 

One  day  he  came  to  one  of  the  teachers,  saying 
he  wanted  to  be  taught  a  prayer;  all  the  scholars  had 
a  prayer  to  say,  and  he  wanted  one.  John  was  past  mid 
dle  life,  and  was  never  endowed  with  much  sense,  in 
fact  was  almost  an  idiot.  The  teacher  began  with  the 
Lord's  Prayer,  teaching  a  sentence  at  a  time,  slowly, 
and  explaining  as  the  lesson  progressed.  "Thy  king 
dom  come,"  was  learned,  and  when  she  gave  out  the 
sentence,  "Forgive  us  our  debts,  as  we  forgive  our 
debtors." 

"What  'dat  mean?"  said  the  pupil. 

"That  you  must  forgive  everybody,  or  God  will 
not  forgive  you." 

"Stop  teacher,  can't  do  dat,"  said  John,  and 
went  his  way. 

After  vacation  our  pupil  made  his  appearance, 
saying,  "Now,  go  on  wid  de  prayer.  I  dun  forgive 
him.  Ole  massar  dun  give  me  five  hundred  lashes, 
an'  den  hit  me  wid  a  crow  bar,  an'  trow  me  out  fur 


PRAYED  THROUGH  AT  LAST.  89 

dead,  an'  I  met  him  on  de  street,  an'  wouldn't  speak 
at  him;  but  to-day  I  met  him,  an'  I  said  'How  d'  ye'! 
Now  go  on  wid  dat  prayer." 

THE    UNIFORM  OF    THE    KU-KLUX. 

The  soldiers  who  are  guarding  this  town  have 
had  a  squabble  with  a  Ku-Klux-Klan,  and  captured 
some  of  their  uniform ;  went  with  several  teachers 
to  see  the  uniform  this  evening — a  sack  of  black, 
the  yoke  striped  with  white;  pants  of  black  muslin 
with  a  stripe  of  white  down  the  side;  the  mask  of 
white  for  the  head,  of  the  same  material  as  the  sack; 
holes  for  the  eyes  and  mouth  trimmed  with  black. 
The  disguise  for  the  horse  was  of  the  same  material 
as  the  man's,  with  a  large  white  star  in  the  forehead. 

THE     SLAVE    PEN. 

It  was  a  long,  low  building,  a  mile  and  a  half 
from  the  city,  built  of  heavy  plank  and  containing 
no  windows.  Two  colored  families  were  living  in 
it.  A  white-haired  colored  man  said,  he  shouldn't 
live  in  it  if  he  could  get  anywhere  else  to  live.  On 
the  outside  of  the  building  hung  the  year's  crop  of 
tobacco,  in  the  process  of  drying.  Large  green 
worms,  the  size  of  one's  finger  were  crawling  over 
it,  which  the  colored  man  said  were  the  tobacco 
worm.  It  was  a  forbidding-looking  place,  and  with 
in  sight  of  it,  were  three  whisky  saloons. 

"Thus  saith  the  Lord;  *  *  *  deliver  him  th#*  is 
spoiled  out  of  the  hand  of  the  oppressor,  lest  my  fury 
go  out  like  fire,  and  burn  that  none  can  quench  it, 
because  of  the  evil  of  your  doings." — Jer.  xxi.  12. 


90         SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 
A  PUPIL   DRUNK. 

Teacher  on  the  platform,  a  large  class  in  reading 
standing  before  her,  each  one  reading  as  his  turn 
comes.  Hiram,  a  large  boy  of  fifteen,  begins  to  read, 
hesitates,  drops  his  book,  begins  to  stagger,  and  but 
for  the  help  of  a  school-mate,  would  fall  before  he 
gets  to  his  seat.  The  boy's  father  has  given  him 
cherry  brandy,  and  he  is  drunk. 

A  COSTLY    BURIAL. 

A  log  cabin  with  a  stick  chimney,  sticks  laid  up 
in  mud;  cabin  so  old  and  open  a  dog  might  come 
through  the  broken  places;  a  colored  woman  and 
three  children  living  in  it.  The  owner  of  the  hut 
has  given  the  woman  notice  to  leave  the  next  day, 
because  she  cannot  pay  the  rent.  Her  sister's  dead 
body  lies  in  one  corner  of  the  room,  awaiting  burial. 
A  white  sheet  is  thrown  over  the  corpse,  and  sprigs 
of  evergreen  are  pinned  on  it.  She  shows  us  the 
face  of  her  sister,  looking  peaceful  in  her  last  long 
sleep.  The  hands  of  the  sleeper  have  costly  white 
gloves  on  them,  the  cost  of  which  might  pay  the 
house  rent  for  some  time,  but  the  afflicted  sister  has 
imitated  the  white  people,  and  followed  the  custom, 
of  putting  gloves  on  the  dead,  we  have  seen  so  often 
in  the  South. 

ONE  ELECTION    DAY. 

The  colored  voters  met  at  their  church,  and 
went  to  the  polls  preceded  by  a  band  of  music.  The 


ONE  ELECTION  DAY.  9! 

colored  women  formed  a  line  of  one  hundred  or  more, 
and  ran  up  and  down  near  the  line  of  voters,  saying, 

"Now,  Sandy,  ef  you  don'vote  de  radical  ticket 
I  won't  live  wid  ye." 

"Now,  Jack,  ef  you  don'  vote  for  Lincum's  men 
I'll  leave  ye." 

As  the  blacks  came  near  the  place  for  voting, 
the  democrats  came  out  with  their  tickets,  and 
bought  the  votes  of  several.  One  man  sold  his  vote 
for  a  suit  of  clothes;  one  sold  his  for  a  gallon  of 
whisky.  The  democrats  declared  they  would  have 
gained  the  day,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  the  women . 

The  noise  and  the  unfairness  in  voting  seemed 
more  like  an  Indian  pow-wow,  than  like  intelligent 
American  citizens  making  laws;  and  some  one  said, 
rather  than  have  such  a  farce  going  on,  it  would  be 
wiser  for  the  government  to  keep  a  standing  army, 
as  they  do  on  the  continent. 

At  this  election  the  republicans  gained  the  vic 
tory,  and  in  a  few  days  the  colored  school  was  told 
that  General  Grant  was  elected  president.  The  whole 
school  rose  and  sang  the  doxology. 

THE    DISGUSTED    CHURCH    MEMBER. 

A  large  Presbyterian  church  South,  in  a  town 
of  twelve  thousand  inhabitants,  doctor  of  divinity  in 
the  pulpit,  gold-headed  cane,  black  kid  gloves,  white 
neck-tie,  dignity  and  gentlemanly  bearing  in  the 
doctor's  make-up.  The  session  of  the  church  are  at 
the  front,  also  two  northern  teachers,  who  have  just 
handed  in  their  letters  to  the  church,  given  them  b\ 
a  northern  Presbyterian  church,  recommending  them 


92       SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

to  the  fellowship  of  any  sister  church  South.  The 
minister  has  read  the  letters,  and  the  session,  also  in 
black  kids,  and  well  dressed,  have  given  to  the 
teachers  the  right  hand  of  fellowship. 

The  teachers  are  in  one  end  of  a  front  pew,  and 
a  white  lady  sits  in  the  opposite  end  of  the  pew. 
There  is  a  little  flurry  in  the  seat,  as  the  white  sister 
in  the  pew  rises  m  great  haste,  gathers  her  skirts 
close  in  her  hands  for  fear  of  touching  the  teachers, 
flings  herself  out  into  the  aisle,  and  takes  a  seat  alone. 
The  doctor  stops  the  talk  he  is  giving  them,  but  di 
rectly  goes  on,  telling  his  flock  he  has  just  returned 
from  an  extensive  tour  among  the  northern  cities, 
and  that  the  Presbyterian  friends  at  the  North  have 
promised  him  help  to  re-build  their  church,  which 
has  been  somewhat  defaced  during  the  war,  and 
reads  the  hymn  for  morning  service.  The  choir 
immediately  begin  singing.  The  chorus  of  the  hymn 
is, 

"Hallelujah  to  Jesus! 

Who  purchased  our  pardon, 
We'll  praise  him  again, 

When  we  pass  over  Jordan." 


CHAPTER     XVII. 

METHODIST    FLEAS,    BAPTIST    RATS. 

"There's  a  clinch  on  the  play-ground,  ma'am, 
an'  ef  you  don'  cum  quick,  dey'll  tear  dare  eyes  out," 
says  a  little  colored  girl  in  breathless  haste,  running 
to  a  teacher. 

Straightway  the  Michigan  teacher  collars  a 
large  boy  of  her  department,  and  marches  him  into 
the  school-room,  and  the  Illinois  teacher  marches  her 
pupils  off  the  play-ground,  and  in  a  moment  the 
school-bell  rings,  and  all  fall  into  line  and  are  seated 
in  the  chapel. 

An  Irishman  is  driving  a  pair  of  oxen  in  the 
road,  near  by;  he  stops  his.  team,  and  with  his  great 
whip  in  his  hand,  stands  waiting  to  see  the  tussle. 

Over  a  hundred  scholars  are  on  the  ground, 
many  of  them  large  ones,  but  they  wait  the  teachers' 
orders.  It  is  the  public  school,  taught  in  a  large 
building,  with  upper  and  lower  departments.  The 
fight  has  been  so  severe,  and  so  many  are  engaged 

93 


94          SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

in  it,  the  whole  school  is  called  together.  The  five 
teachers  are  on  the  platform,  one  playing  the  organ, 
and  the  scholars  sing  with  a  will.  When  the  song 
is  done,  the  scholars  repeat  in  concert  after  the 
teacher, 

"Let  dogs  delight  to  bark  and  bite, 

For  God  hath  made  them  so. 
Let  bears  and  lions  growl  and  fight, 

For  'tis  their  nature,  too. 

"But,  children,  you  should  never  let 

Your  angry  passions  rise: 
Your  little  hands  were  never  made 

To  tear  each  other's  eyes." 

After  quiet  is  restored,  the  scholars  are  allowed 
to  give  their  testimony  about  the  fighting.  One 
says, 

"Ye  see,  ma'am,  we  wuz  hangin'  Jeff,  an'  we 
had  jes'  got  troo  de  song, 

"  'We'll  hang  Jeff  Davis  tu  de  sour  apple  tree, 
As  we  go  marchin'  'long,' 

an'  we  dun  had  de  rope  on  Jeff,  an'  had  him  mos5 
hung,  an'  dat  yaller  gal  cum  'long  an'  guv  him  a  h'ist, 
an'  den  de  wah  was  in,  an'  I  couldn't  stan'  bein' 
called  a  rat." 

Explanation:  There  were  two  churches,  both 
containing  many  members,  and  sectarianism  was  so 
rampant,  the  common  terms  they  called  each  other, 
were  "Methodist  fleas,  Baptist  rats";  this  among  the 
parents,  and  what  wonder  the  children  were  tinct 
ured  with  a  sectarian  spirit. 

We  shamed  them  thoroughly ;  and  after  there 
had  been  quite  a  revival  among  the  people,  old  Uncle 
Manuel  one  day  said, 

"I  see  you  teachers,  five  or  six  of  ye,  b'longs  tu 


METHODIST    FLEAS.       BAPTIST    RATS.  95 

different  'nominations,  an'  I  don'  see  ye  fall  out  'bout 
it  either,  an'  sum  on  ye  I  don'  jes'  know  what  church 
ye  duz  belong  tu,  an'  I's  1'arned  a  lesson.  I  reckon 
it'll  all  be  de  same  church  in  heaven."  After  that, 
we  heard  no  more  of  "Methodist  fleas,  and  Baptist 
rats." 


CHAPTER     XVIII. 

DECORATION   DAY    IN   MOBILE. 

Thousands  of  people  throng  the  cemetery.  The 
graves  of  the  union  soldiers  are  just  in  sight  of  those 
of  the  southern  army.  The  long  rows  of  dead  are 
buried,  and  each  grave  is  marked  with  a  whiteboard, 
in  imitation  of  a  marble  slab.  The  names  are  in 
black  letters.  Most  of  them  have  name,  company, 
and  regiment.  Some  are  marked  unknown.  Near 
the  center  of  the  union  cemetery,  is  a  large  mound, 
surmounted  by  a  flag-staff.  Near  by  the  mound  is 
a  small  house,  for  the  keeper  of  the  grounds,  whose 
business  it  is  to  show  visitors  through  the  grounds, 
and  to  keep  the  American  flag  always  on  the  flag 
staff. 

We  allow  scholars  who  wish  to  go  to  see 
the  decoration.  The  next  day,  we  ask  a  little  colored 
girl  about  it,  she  says: 

"Yes;  I  went  to  tote  flowers;  a  white  lady  dun 
guv  me  a  heap  o'  flowers  to  put  on  de  graves,  but  I 
dun  put  'em  on  de  Yantts  graves  ! 


DECORATION  DAY    IN  MOBILE.  97 

'Twas  Decoration  Day; 

Far  on  a  southern  plain, 
I  walked  amid  the  graves, 

Of  many  thousand  slain. 

Rare  trailing  vines,  and  flowers, 

Decked  all  the  Rebel  dead; 
Songs  filled  the  balmy  air, 

And  sorrowing  tears  were  shed. 

Close  by  my  side,  a  child, 

Of  Africa's  sable  race, 
With  arms  brimful  of  flowers, 

And  childhood's  happy  face. 

Humming  a  loyal  song, 

Among  the  ranks  of  dead, 
Stopped  near  five  hundred  graves, 

"Dese  Norveners,"  she  said. 

I  watched  the  dusky  child, 
Humming  the  John  Brown  song, 

While  hundreds  strewed  their  flowers, 
Amid  the  silent  throng. 

What  brings  her  here?  I  mused; 

Her  choicest  flowers  she  saves, 
"Why,  ma'am,  I  strow  dese  flowers, 

Upon  dem  Yankees'  graves." 

DECORATION  DAY  AGAIN. 

Long  lines  of  ladies,  accompanied  by  colored 
servants,  pass  near  the  school-house  to  a  cemetery  a 
hundred  yards  away.  Their  arms  are  full  of  garlands, 
and  baskets  of  flowers.  The  colored  school  is  out 
at  recess.  One  of  the  teachers  puts  her  head  out  of 
a  recitation  room,  and  says,  "The  scholars  are  sing 
ing? 

"  'John  Brown's  body  lies  rnoldering  in  the  grave, 
But  his  soul  is  marching  on.'  " 

Instantly  the  school-bell  is  rung,  and  the  pupils, 


98          SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    P^REEDMEN. 

over  a  hundred  of  them,  march  relunctantly  into  the 
house,  and  to  their  seats.  A  lecture  from  the  teacher, 
who  tells  them  we  must  respect  the  feelings  of  peo 
ple,  when  they  go  to  the  graves  of  friends ;  that  this 
school  is  trying  to  work  by  the  golden  rule,  and  she 
hopes  after  this  they  will  remember  to  do  as  they 
would  be  done  by,  and  begins  singing  a  temperance 
song,  in  which  the  school  join  with  a  will,  all  but  a 
few  boys  of  ten  or  twelve;  they  are  putting  some 
thing  under  their  desks.  They  have  stones  picked 
up,  they  were  just  ready  to  throw  at  the  decorating 
procession,  and  one  of  them  growls  out  "Rebs"  We 
have  just  escaped  a  small  rebellion,  and  are  thankful. 


FKIENDS  WHO   STOOD   BY  US. 


CHAPTER     XIX. 


INCIDENTS. 


Of  the  many  aged  ones,  who  came,  some  of 
them  many  miles,  to  hear  us  read  and  explain  the 
Scriptures,  we  mention  one — a  very  stout,  and  very 
old  colored  woman;  her  hair  white  with  age.  She  is 
carried  up  the  stairs  by  two  of  her  sons,  stout  men. 
We  suppose  she  has  come  for  clothing,  as  we  have 
many  garments,  sent  by  northern  friends  to  give 
away.  One  woman  says  she  rode  a  mule  twenty- 
one  miles,  all  for  a  pair  of  spectacles.  But  this  aged 
one  comes  for  a  different  purpose.  She  begins  her 
story  thus : 

"Honey,  I's  dun  had  a  vision  las'  night,  an'  I 
aint  a  wantin'  nothin',  only  tu  hear  de  good  book 
read.  I's  seen  de  ribber,  an'  de  long  golden  street, 
an'  I  seed  Jesus,  an'  he  tell  me  it's  in  a  book,  an'  I's 
hungry  to  hear  it.  Read  quick,  now,  honey." 

"And  he  shewed  me  a  pure  river  of  water  of 
100 


INCIDENTS.  101 

life,  clear  as  crystal,  proceeding  out  of  the  throne  of 
God  and  of  the  Lamb." 

"Yes;  dat's  it!  Fs  seen  it,  an'  dat's  whar  it  tells 
ob  it,  in  de  good  Book:  I's  got  it  in  hea',"  putting 
her  hand  on  her  breast;  "go  on,  oh!  go  on." 

"In  the  midst  of  the  streets  of  it,  and  on  either 
side  of  the  river,  was  there  the  tree  of  life,  which 
bare  twelve  manner  of  fruits,  and  yielded  her  fruit 
every  month :  and  the  leaves  of  the  tree  were  for  the 
healing  of  the  nations." 

"Yes;  I  seed  de  tree  dar;  what  dat  'mean,  honey? 
You  'splane  dat". 

"Some  think  it  means  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit — 
love,  joy,  peace,  holiness,  truth,  salvation;  and  aunty, 
some  think  it  means  the  books,  and  tracts,  and  hymns, 
we  all  have.  What  do  you  think  it  means? 

"Oh !  I  aint  a  saying,  honey.  I  see'd  the  tree,  an' 
de  ribber,  an'  Jesus  done  turned  de  hull  ribber  down 
troo  my  ole  soul,  an'  den  I  jes'  shouted,  till  I  woke 
'em  all  up;  but  dey's  got  so  used  to  my  shoutin',  dey 
don'  pester  me,  I  jes'  shouts,  mostly  like  de  springs 
o'  water,  natiral  like,  an'  cant  help  it.  Go  on.  I'se 
so  hungry  fu*  dat  readin',  I  ain't  wantin'  tings  tu 
war,  or  tu  eat;  I  jes'  wantin'  tu  hear  de  good  Book." 

"And  there  shall  be  no  more  curse:  but  the 
throne  of  God,  and  of  the  Lamb  shall  be  in  it;  and 
his  servants  shall  serve  him:  and  they  shall  see  his 
face;  and  his  name  shall  be  in  their  foreheads.  And 
there  shall  be  no  night  there ;  and  they  need  no  can 
dle,  neither  light  of  the  sun ;  for  the  Lord  God  giveth 
them  light,  and  they  shall  reign  for  ever  and  ever." 


102     SEVEN  YEARS  AMONG  THE  FREEDMEN. 

"Yes,  that's  it  again.  It's  gwine  tti  be  furever. 
Is'e  gwine  tu  be  dar!  In  dat  kingdum,  honey,  dese 
heaps  o'  tings  Is'e  gwine  tu  tell  Masser  Jesus.  An' 
you  all  is  one  on  'em,  in  de  kingdum.  I  sees  it  in  yo' 
face,  honey.  I  sees  it  arter  dey  poo'  bodies  is  all  still 
an'  cold,  an'  I  kin  jes'  tell  by  de  'spressions  ob  de 
countenance,  ef  dey  has  de  kingdom  in  dere  souls; 
don'  you  all  b'leve  dat?" 

"Yes;  but  you  can't  always  tell  a  Christian  by 
the  joy-look  in  his  face.  'Ye  must  be  born  again,' 
said  Jesus,  'or  ye  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God.' 
'By  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them.'  The  actions 
are  the  fruits.  If  you  steal  and  lie,  get  drunk,  and 
commit  adultery,  you  are  not  a  Christian,  if  you  do 
shout." 

"Yes,  honey,  I  know,  dat's  so  shore,  but  de  well; 
aint  it  in  de  book?  'Bout  de  well  in  us?  Read  it. 
Is'e  so  hungry  to  hear  it  out  o'  de  good  Book.  John 
iv.i/j.:  "But  whosoever  drinketh  of  the  water  that  I 
shall  give  him,  shall  never  thirst;  but  the  water  that 
I  shall  give  him  shall  be  in  him  a  well  of  water  spring 
ing  up  into  everlasting  life." 

"Yes;  a  well!  An*  Ps  got  it!  An'  it's  like  a 
sheep  wid  a  tail  so  long  dar  aint  no  end  tu  it;  /y'e 
got  it\  De  ribber,  an' de  well,  an'  all!  Good-by, 
honey!  Boys,  tote  me  down  the  steps.  Is'e  cumin 
in  tu  yo'  preachin'  agin,  honey!  Bress  de  good 
Lawd!" 


AMOB  C.,   A  PROMISING  PUl'IL. 


CHAPTER     XX. 


A     FREEDMEN     SCHOOL CALLING    THE     ROLL. 


George  Washington  ? 
John  Adams? 
Abraham  Lincoln? 
James  Madison? 
Jefferson  Davis? 
Daniel  Webster? 
Samuel  Lee? 
Benjamin  Franklin? 
Henry  Clay? 
Noah  Hatch? 
James  Jackson  ? 
Margaret  Mitchell? 
Martha  Washington. 
Virginia  Lee? 


Here. 

Present. 

Present. 

Present. 

Here. 

Here. 

Present. 

Here. 

Present. 

Here. 

Here. 

Present. 

Here. 


Here. 

Two  hundred  and  fifty  scholars,  of  all  shades  of 
complexion,  and  of  all  ages,  from  five  to  seventy- 
five,  the  roll-call  goes  on  until  representatives  of  the 
names  of  many  of  the  presidents  and  eminent 

104 


A    FREEDMEN    SCHOOL.  105 

statesmen,  are  found  to  be  studying  in  the  "nigger 
school"  and  with  arms  folded,  and  in  order  in  their 
school  desks,  that  have  been  sent  from  the  North, 
for  the  school,  they  answer  "present!"  at  the  call  of 
their  names.  A  building  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet 
long,  built  twenty  years  ago  for  a  boy's  school  in 
Mississippi — this  is  a  high  school.  Yonder  is  a  flax 
en-haired  mulatto  girl  studying  out  of  the  same  book 
with  a  middle-aged  woman,  as  black  as  midnight; 
here  is  a  gray-haired  man  who  has  been  the  slave  'of 
an  ex-general,  trying  to  master  the  alphabet.  We 
accost  him  with  the  usual  salutation  in  the  South 
"How  d'ye,  Uncle?  Is  this  your  first  chance  at 
school,  and  how  do  you  get  on?" 

"Mighty  well,  thankee,  ma'am.  Yes'm;dis  yer's 
de  bery  fust  'pertunity  I's  had  fur  book  1'arnin',  an' 
I's  jammed  nigh  onter  a  hundred  years." 

There  sits  a  father  and  his  little  five  year  old 
child,  studying  out  of  the  same  book. 

Recess — and  the  two  hundred  and  fifty  scholars 
file  out  into  the  yard,  each  carrying  his  lunch,  con 
sisting  of  corn  bread,  sweet  potatoes,  and  a  bottle  of 
molasses,  or  one  of  buttermilk,  one  of  the  universal 
drinks  at  the  South,  and  very  good  for  the  health  in 
that  climate.  Here  is  the  hoe-cake,  made  of  corn 
meal,  water,  and  a  little  salt,  and  baked  the  size  of  a 
large  dinner  plate  in  a  skillet,  and  there  is  a  bit  of 
a  corn  loaf  with  rice  in  it.  The  best  cooks  in  the 
land  have  made  this  bread,  and  baked  it  by  fire 
places,  as  did  our  great-grandmothers  over  a  hundred 
years  ago.  The  bread  is  fit  for  a  king,  but  the  use 
of  so  much  bacon,  and  so  much  swine's  grease  in 
nearly  all  the  cookery,  spoils  it  for  us. 


106   SEVEN  YEARS  AMONG  THE  PREBDMEN. 

The  corn  meal  of  the  South  is  as  fine  as  flour, 
and  of  a  much  nicer  quality  than  we  have  seen  man 
ufactured  at  the  North,  and  this  hoe-cake,  which 
takes  its  name  from  the  haste  in  which  the  slaves 
used  to  bake  it  upon  their  hoes,  is  a  favorite  bread 
for  breakfast  on  the  tables  of  both  rich  and  poor. 

The  five  teachers  are  on  the  platform,  and 
scholars  singing  a  temperance  song,  when  visitors 
are  announced — a  poor  white  woman  and  her  little 
girl.  The  mother,  and  child  of  ten  years,  are  both 
dressed  in  coarse  cotton  cloth,  made  by  the  poorest 
of  the  people,  and  colored  with  the  bark  of  trees. 
Neither  of  them  have  any  covering  for  head  or  feet. 
They  cannot  read  a  word,  and  don't  know  what 
county  they  live  in.  The  woman  has  a  bag  with 
some  mustard  leaves  in,  she  wishes  to  sell  to  the 
teachers  for  greens.  Her  words  are  so  drawled  out, 
we  can  only  understand  her  by  giving  the  closest  at 
tention.  She  represents  a  class  of  many  thousands 
at  the  South,  ranking  far  below  the  negro  in  point  of 
thrift  or  intelligence.  Some  of  them  eat  clay,  and 
are  called  clay-eaters.  They  appear  to  be  descend 
ants  of  the  Spanish  race,  and  never  mingle  with  the 
negro:  are  a  class  distinct,  both  from  whites  and 
blacks.  They  invariably  use  tobacco;  men,  women 
and  children  chew  it,  or  dip. 

The  woman  accosts  us  thus:  "M-o-r-n-i-n', 
m-a-r-m.  Du  ye  bile  a  pot?  Have  a  snack  o'  greens? 
Take  tea  fur  'em,  or  any  notion  ye  hev;  haint  seen 
no  tea  in  a  dorg's  age.  Ye  needn't  pay  de  sponju- 
leps,"  meaning  money. 

"Ye's   got   a   right  smart  skule  yere,  a  mighty 


A    FRKEDMEN    SCHOOL.  1C 

sight  o'  niggers!  Drefftil  pest,  tu;  orter  be  teeched. 
'Xante  no  sin  tu  teech  'em  tu  reed,  but  dey's  niggers, 
an'  ye  must  keep  'em  under;  min*  an*  keep  *em 
under" 

"Can  you  read,  madam,  and  will  you  take  a 
Testament?"  says  a  teacher  to  her. 

"A  Terstament?     What  is  it?" 

"A  part  of  the  Bible  ma'am.  Shall  I  write 
your  name  in  it?" 

"Yas.  De  Bible?  I  know  what  'tis;  my  father 
had  one  onct!  Write  its  name  in  it,"  meaning  the 
child.  "She  don*  go  tu  no  skule.  You  all  cum 
down  yer'  an'  teech  dese  black  'uns,  but  who'll  teech 
my  chillen?  Dey  needs  tu  Varn  tu  reedtu" 

"Can't  your  little  girl  come  to  Sunday- 
school?" 

"Wai,  no  marm ;  she  could  if  'twa'n't  fur  her 
he'd  an'  feet;  haint  no  hat  an'  no  shuse.  Reckon 
'taint  no  use  fur  we  'uns  tu  1'arn.  Dat  book  tells  de 
wurld's  gwine  tu  be  burnt  up,  an'  tells  'bout  de 
jedgement  day,  don'  it?  Du  ye  reckun  we'll  be  in 
de  same  he'ven  wid  you  all  as  can  rede?  an'  what'll 
be  dun  tu  dese  yer  rich  'uns,  as  keep  de  'nolege  away 
from  us  'uns?  Reckun  de  jedgement  day'll  set  that 
all  right?" 

The  woman  and  child  both  had  dip-sticks  in 
their  mouths,  and  the  tobacco  juice  was  running 
down  at  the  corners  of  their  mouths,  and  altogether 
the  squalor  and  filth  of  their  appearance  was  in 
describable.  "Poo'  white  trash,"  whispered  a  young 
black  boy,  with  a  look  of  contempt,  who  came  to 
show  them  up  to  the  platform. 


108       SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

The  greens  exchanged  for  tea,  the  woman  began 
a  series  of  rising  on  her  toes,  and  coming  down  on 
her  heels,  called  in  olden  times  courtesying,  which 
lasted  until  she  reached  the  door,  but  came  back  to 
tell  us, 

"Yer's  is  a  mighty  fine  skule,  an'  'taint  no  sin  tu 
teech  'em ;  dey  orter  be  teechedj  but  dey's  niggers 
an'  ye  must  min'  an'  keep  'em  under,  ma'am  ; 
an*  keep  ''em  under /" 


A    FREEDMKN    SCHOOL. 


io9 


The  writing;  scholars  were  allowed  to  write  little 

O 

letters  to  the  teachers,  all  sealed  and  ready  to  post,  to 
teach  them  how  to  write.  The  little  girl  whose  pict 
ure  appears  above,  wrote: 

"Dear  Teacher, — I  love  the  school  and  to  study  and  learn, 
and  I  have  learned  to  love  my  Saviour  since  this  school  began. 
Yes,  poor  little  Joyce  has  learned  to  love  you  and  Jesus." 
Affectionately,  your  pupil, 

Joyce  Turner." 


CHAPTER      XXI. 


CARPET     BAGGERS. 

A  northern  man  living  south,  with  an  office 
under  the  United  States  goverment. 

"The  doctor  thinks  Mrs.  W.  can't  live  until 
morning,"  said  the  colonel;  will  you  go  to  her?  She 
has  lived  all  summer  in  the  place,  and  been  visited  hy 
none  of  her  neighbors;  members  of  the  same  church 
to  which  she  belongs  have  staid  as  much  away  from 
her,  as  though  she  were  a  mad  dog." 

A  ride  of  a  mile,  and  we  are  at  the  bedside  of 
the  sufferer,  who  moans  in  her  delirium,  and  calls  for 
her  mother.  On  opening  her  eyes  she  thinks  the 
northern  teacher  is  her  mother,  and  smiles,  saying, 
CCI  thought  you'd  come." 

For  two  days  and  nights,  we  watch  the  sick  one, 
helping  the  patient  doctor  fight  malarial  fever. 

At  the  end  of  the  second  day,  as  we  look  into 
the  doctor's  face  for  hope,  he  shakes  his  head,  and 
says,  "She  will  die  to-night!"  The  doctor  seemed  a 

no 


CARPET    BAGGERS^  Ill 

gentleman  and  a  Christian.  The  tears  stood  in  his 
eyes,  as  he  heard  the  sufferer  call  for  her  mother. 

Before  morning,  gleams  of  intelligence  dawned 
:n  the  mind  of  the  sick  one,  and  she  said,  "I  thought 
you  were  mother;  you're  the  teacher.  Will  I  get 
well?  and  why  don't  mother  come?" 

"If  she  don't  come,  what  shall  I  tell  her,"  said 
the  watcher,  "and  will  it  be  all  right  if  you  don't  get 
well?" 

"Oh,  yes!  Jesus  is  with  me,  and  tell  mother  I 
thought  of  her,  and  loved  her  just  as  well  as  ever." 

Again  the  languid  eyes  closed,  and  when  she 
awoke  from  the  next  sleep,  the  fever  and  delirium 
were  on  her  again,  and  soon,  as  the  doctor  had  pre 
dicted,  she  went  into  an  unconscious  state,  and  ere 
sunrise  was  sleeping  the  sleep  that  knows  no  wak 
ing,  until  the  morning  of  the  resurrection. 

"On  India's  plains,  by  Lapland's  snows, 
Believers  find  the  same  repose." 

There  were  present  at  the  death  bed,  the 
husband,  the  colonel,  the  doctor,  Aunt  Caroline,  an 
old  colored  woman,  and  the  teacher;  also  by  this  time 
the  white  neighbors,  who  lived  many  of  them  very 
near,  began  to  come  in,  and  sit  around  the  outside  of 
the  room,  until  the  room  was  nearly  full  of  them. 

One  said  to  another,  "We'd  have  come  in  before, 
if  we'd  have  known  it." 

As  the  sufferer  breathed  her  last  sigh,  the 
colonel  fell  on  his  knees,  and  said,  "Let  us  pray,"  and 
poured  out  a  prayer  for  the  afflicted  husband,  and  the 
stricken  mother,  so  far  away. 

The  southern  woman  helped  lay  the  cold  form 


112       SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

in  the  casket,  after  putting  on  the  best  dress  they 
could  find  in  the  woman's  wardrobe,  and  all  the 
icwelry  she  had,  putting  her  rings  over  her  white 
gloves,  and  placing  the  infant  child,  which  like  a 
morning  dew-drop  had  opened  its  eyes  in  this  world, 
and  been  exhaled  to  heaven,  by  the  side  of  its  mother. 
The  colonel  accompanied  the  sorrowing  husband 
with  his  dead  treasures  to  the  northern  home  of  the 
mother. 


CHAPTER     XXII. 


A    NIGHT    ON  THE    GULF. 

United  States  mail  steamer,  the  last  trip  she 
makes  this  season,  sails  at  six  o'clock,  and  reaches 
Mobile  in  the  morning  —  "Right  this  way,  madam,'t 
and  we  follow  the  noisy  waiter,  who  carries  our 
small  baggage  on  board  of  one  of  the  largest  Amer 
ican  vessels,  and  steam  away  from  New  Orleans,  sing 
ing,  "We  are  out  on  the  ocean  sailing." 

A  sunset  on  the  ocean  is  better  seen  than  de 
scribed.  The  waves  on  the  gulf  are  much  shorter 
than  in  mid-ocean,  which  causes  a  greater  shaking 
about  of  all  kinds  of  craft,  and  more  sea-sickness. 

The  spy-glasses  are  leveled  at  the  receding 
shores,  the  band  of  music  does  its  best,  the  passengers 

are  all  enjoying  the  scene. 

******* 
Midnight  and  all  are  gone  to  their  rooms,  except 
the  faithful  sailors.    The  night-watch  paces  the  deck, 
the  giant  engine    labors    against  the  rolling    waves, 


114   SEVEN  YEARS  AMONG  THE  FREEDMEN. 

carrying  us  nearer  our  destination  at  every  revolution 
of  its  ponderous  wheel.  Hark!  a  deafening  crash,  a 
roar  of  thunder,  a  tremendous  shake  of  the  vessel, 
that  awakens  every  one  on  board ;  a  thunder  storm  at 
sea,  and  that  isn't  the  worse  of  it.  Our  craft  has 
drifted  out  of  the  way  and  is  fast  on  the  oyster  reefs. 

About  seventy  or  more  miles  from  Mobile  is  a 
long,  deep  channel  in  the  midst  of  the  bay,  called 
Grant's  Pass,  which  was  dredged  in  the  last  war  at 
great  expense  to  make  a  way  for  the  war  vessels  to 
pass  through  the  oyster  reefs,  and  woe  unto  the  ships 
that  get  out  of  this  channel. 

A  friendly  light-house  is  near  by,  and  we  cast 
anchor  and  wait  for  daylight.  The  falling  rain 
drenches  the  deck,  and  finds  its  way  into  our  state 
room,  and  patience  is  the  only  quality  we  need. 

Grand!  sublime!  are  the  only  words  that  begin 
to  describe  the  war  of  the  elements.  Morning  dawns 
and  the  captain  sends  hot  coffee  to  all  who  wish  it, 
but  no  one  cares  for  anything  but  to  be  rid  of  the 
dreadful  sea-sickness. 

At  this  moment  a  feeling  as  of  something  awful 
aboutto  happen,  came  over  the  writer,  who  was  sit 
ting  in  the  cabin  as  were  many  ladies,  with  their  feet 
up  on  chairs  to  keep  them  from  the  water  now  roll 
ing  over  the  deck.  No  one  had  mentioned  anything 
to  be  afraid  of,  yet  the  sense  of  horror  was  so  borne 
in  upon  the  soul,  the  writer  arose  and  staggering  into 
her  state-room,  fell  on  the  floor  in  agony  of  prayer, 
crying  aloud,  "O  God,  spare  his  life!  O  God,  spare 
his  life !"  Soon  the  sense  of  terror  left,  and  a  mighty 
peace  known  only  to  the  one  who  holds  communion 


A  NIGKT    ON    THK    GULF.  115 

with  God,  was  felt,  and  on  going  out  on  deck  where 
many  of  the  passengers  were  peering  over  the  side  of 
the  vessel,  we  saw  a  small  boat  containing  one  person, 
and  the  young  man  teacher  of  our  company,  asked, 
"Did  you^hear  the  man  swear?  he  nearly  went  under 
the  boat."  In  a  moment  it  was  plain  what  was  the 
cause  of  the  inte*ise  soul  anguish,  that  had  just  passed 
over  the  writer.  To  God  be  the  glory!  She  had 
been  burdened  for  the  profane  man  so  near  death. 

After  four  hours  of  tugging  with  ropes  the  wind 
changed,  and  the  waters  seemed  to  almost  blow  to 
us,  the  ship  veered  around,  and  we  were  loose. 

We  make  the  harbor  of  Mobile  forty-eight  hours 
late.  This  city  is  put  down  as  having  48,000  inhab 
itants,  half  of  them  black,  and  we  think,  as  we  near 
the  shore,  most  of  them  are  out  to  greet  us.  Many 
have  friends  on  board,  and  are  half  wild  to  know  if 
they  are  safe.  The  storm  has  been  so  severe  they 
say  the  waves  have  washed  alligators  on  shore,  and 
men  and  boys  are  chasing  them  with  sticks. 

The  city  is  in  the  midst  of  an  exciting  political 
election,  and  revolvers  are  the  order  of  the  day.  Our 
friends  are  among  the  post  office  officials,  one  of 
them  is  postmaster,  and  they  are  in  the  warfare. 
They  tell  us  only  one  colored  man  was  killed  last 
night,  and  to-day  one  brave  man  has  cleared  the  of 
fice  of  an  excited  mob. 

The  street  cars  of  this  city  have  an  iron  lattice 
work,  on  one  side  of  which  the  whites  can  ride,  on 
the  other  side  the  colored  people.  A  lady  has  taken 
her  waiting-maid  into  the  wrong  end  of  the  car,  and 


Il6  SEVEN  YEARS  AMONG  THE  FREEDMEN. 

the    conductor    stops    the  car,  and  gets  her  into  her 
place. 

"Things  are  a  little  mixed  here,"  says  a  half- 
drunken  man,  who  is  allowed  to  ride  with  the  elite, 
"but  guess  they  they'll  get  unmixed." 

We  hope  so  and  wonder  if  when  women  are 
allowed  to  vote,  they'll  have  to  carry  revolvers,  and 
see  so  many  drunken  men,  as  we  have  seen  in  our 
ride  of  six  blocks. 

The  car  has  stopped  in  front  of  the  college,  now- 
used  as  a  Freedmen's  school,  and  -we  enter  the  yard 
full  of  live  oaks  and  orange  trees,  and  are  thankful  to 
see  nearby  the  barracks  of  our  country's  soldiers,  with 
the  stars  and  stripes  thrown  to  the  breeze,  and  we 
rest. 

Here  we  taught  several  hundred  colored  people 
during  the  year,  and  saw  what  we  never  did  in  any 
other  place  in  America,  viz.,  a  principal  of  a  white 
school  where  we  visited,  smoking  a  cigar  in  school 
hours  in  the  midst  of  his  school,  he  walking  up  and 
down  the  aisles  of  the  school-room,  with  a  book  in 
his  hand  prompting  his  pupils.  At  the  risk  of  his 
displeasure,  we  told  him  he  couldn't  do  that,  and  keep 
his  place  in  a  northern  school. 


CHAPTER     XXIII. 

JOURNAL 1872. 

Was  present  at  the  baptism  of  twenty-four 
colored  people,  last  Sabbath — -baptized  by  immersion 
in  the  Tombigbee  river.  The  waters  were  so  muddy, 
when  the  candidates  came  out  of  the  water,  they  were 
covered  with  mud.  The  women  wore  white  dresses, 
and  all  marched  two  by  two  in  procession,  out  of  the 
woods.  We  were  told  they  had  all  drank  whisky,  to 
keep  them  from  getting  chilly.  Some  of  them 
shouted,  and  threw  the  water,  clapping  their  hands 
wildly.  A  thousand  people,  a  third  of  them  whites, 
stood  on  the  high  bluffs  to  witness  the  baptism.  The 
hymn  of  praise  from  so  many  voices  sounded  grandly: 

"From  all  that  dwell  below  the  skies, 

Let  the  Creator's  praise  arise, 

Let  the  Redeemer's  name  be  sung, 

Through  every  land,  by  every  tongue." 
Before  the  baptisms,  went  to  the  large  African 
church,  to  hear  the  experiences  of  the  candidates. 

An  old  man  said,  "I  started  traveling  an'  went 
117 


Il8       SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

on,  an'  on,  'til  I  cum  tu  ole  hell,  an'  I  see  de  devil,  an 
asked  him  ef  I  might  plow  dar.  He  said  I  might, 
an'  I  plowed  tu  furrows  on  de  firey  mane  o'  hell. 
Den  I  seed  an  ole  woman  wid  her  hair  all  burnt  off. 
Den  I  seed  a  pair  ©'balances,  an'  was  weighed  in  'em 
an'  was  light  as  a  feather.  Ef  I'de  a  knowed  God 
wus  sich  a  sweet  God,  I'de  a  prayed  my  knees  tu  de 
bone." 

Another  said,  "I  started  travelin',  an'  went  on, 
an'  went  on,  'til  I  cum  to  hebben,  an'  Peter  opened 
de  door  an'  let  me  in,  an'  he  an'  John  guv  me  sliced 
water-melon,  on  a  golden  server,  an'  I  had  on  golden 
slippers,  an'  went  a  slippin'  an'  a  slidin'  up  an'  down 
de  golden  streets." 

Another  said,  "I  was  walkin'  'long,  smokin'  my 
pipe,  an'  pretty  soon  my  pipe  spoke  tu  me,  an'  it 
said,  'Unworthy!  unworthy!  unworthy!'  Then  I  was 
lying  on  the  floor,  and  the  dogs  came  and  licked  the 
meal  off  my  face." 

A  woman  holding  an  infant  child  said,  «'I  'gun 
to  pray,  den  I  stopped.  One  day  my  ole  hen  got 
sick,  an'  when  I  seed  her  a  scringin'  an'  a  flutterin' 
in  death,  I  said,  'Lawd,  ef  a  poo'  brute  scringes  so  in 
death,  what'll  become  o'  poo'  me.'  Den  I  'gun  tu 
play  wid  my  baby,  an'  I  heered  a  voice  say,  «No 
time,  no  time,  no  time  fur  dat,  better  pray.'  Den 
pears  like  I  'gun  travelin',  an'  I  got  tu  hell,  an'  I  seed 
a  little  ole  man,  a  stirrin'  in  a  pot  o'  soap,  dat  was 
bilin',  an'  he  stirred  up  little  babies,  an'  I  axed  him 
what  dey  is,  an'  he  dun  said,  'Dey  is  ole  souls  dat 
had  been  biled  down,  an'  I  prayed  Lawd  hab  mercy 
on  poo'  me,  an7  my  head  flew  up,  an'  I  felt  light  as  a 


JOURNAI 1872.  119 

feather,  an'  pears  like  I  loved  everybody;  an'  de 
tings  I  once  hated,  now  I  lub,  an'  I  lub  sinners  tu, 
but  I  lub  Christians  de  best,  an*  I  lub  Masser  Jesus 
best  ob  all." 

An  old  man  said,  "I  started  travelin',  an'  pears 
like  I  had  weights  hung  tu  my  feet,  an'  I  had  tu  tote 
'em,  an'  I  grew  so  tired  totin'  'em,  I  sweat  great 
drops  o'  blood;  den  I  prayed,  an'  fell  into  a  slumber, 
an'  I  hung  over  hell  by  a  slender  cotton  thread;  an' 
den  I  prayed  as  I  nebber  prayed  afore.  Den  I  was 
in  bed,  an'  I  see  a  light  cum  down  troo'  de  roof,  an' 
I  heard  a  voice,  'Your  sins  is  all  forgiven;'  an'  I 
knew  dat  voice  'longed  tu  Jesus,  an'  I  aked  him  ef 
'twant,  an'  he  sed,  'Yes.'  Den  he  showed  me  his 
feet  wid  de  print  ob  de  nails  in  fur  me,  an'  I  kissed 
dem  feet,  an'  he  tole  me  to  tote  dis  ole  body  a  leetle 
longer,  den  he'll  cum  fur  me,  an'  bring  me  tu  live  in 
a  manshum  wid  he.  An'  den  Jesus  sed,  'de  work 
dat  you  do  fur  me  in  de  world,  will  make  a  wrinkle 
in  yo'  crown  in  glory.' " 

One  poor  man,  only  said,  he  came  to  Jesus,  and 
he  took  all  his  sins  away;  he  could  now  pray  for  his 
enemies  and  believed  the  Lord  saved  his  soul.  This 
candidate  was  about  to  be  rejected,  because  he  had 
no  wonders  to  tell,  but  a  white  friend  came  to  the 
rescue,  and  said  to  the  colored  preacher  who  was  tak 
ing  the  members  into  the  church.  "You'll  have  to 
let  him  in,  for  he  says  he  trusts  in  Jesus  to  the  saving 
of  his  soul.  What  better  can  any  one  do?" 

"Well,"  said  the  gray-haired  African  preacher, 
"we'll  vote  on  his  case,"  and  he  barely  passed,  but 
received  a  reprimand  from  the  preacher,  which  ran 


120      SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

thus:  "You  have  been  a  believer  for  six  months,  and 
you  ought  by  this  time,  to  have  delivered  yourself  of 
an  experience" 

Here  the  session  of  two  hours  came  to  an  end, 
by  the  pastor's  pronouncing  the  benediction,  and  all 
went  to  the  river  to  attend  the  baptisms. 

****** 

Elmira  Water-cure,  N.  Y.:  "Your  throat  is  bad, 
madam.  You  ought  to  have  been  here  six  weeks 
ago;  I  don't  know  as  I  can  prevent  it  from  going  to 
your  lungs.  What  you  been  doing?" 

"Teaching." 

"Where?" 

"In  Mobile,  Alabama." 

"I  thought  so.  We  have  the  most  trouble  with 
teachers  of  any  class  of  patients.  They  are  worn  out. 
They  wear  out  faster  than  any  other  class  of  people. 
Orders:  Hot  baths;  high  diet — beefsteak,  eggs,  milk, 
fruit,  oysters,  everything  the  health  cure  has  on  the 
table;  ride  for  exercise;  sleep  late  in  the  morning; 
never  mind  the  breakfast  bell.  You  can  have  your 
breakfast  sent  up  when  you  waken.  We'll  see  if 
you  can  be  toned  up,  for  some  more  teaching. 
Lizzie,  show  the  lady  to  her  room,"  says  the  old 
doctor. 

A  lovely  room,  with  all  needful  modern  im 
provements, — couches,  that  are  so  tasteful  they  look 
like  resting;  lovely  views  of  the  Alleghany  mount 
ains  from  the  windows;  three  room-mates — all  of 
them  high-toned  southern  ladies,  from  West 
Virginia;  stiff  silk  dresses,  but  very  plain,  one  of  them 
a  young  woman,  but  wears  a  white  cap.  Can  it  be? 
Yes ;  they  are  Quakers. 


JOURNAL 1872.  121 

Query:  Wonder  if  I  am  to  be  haunted  with 
southerners  the  rest  of  my  life?  Now  if  I  wasn't  a 
"nigger  teacher",  and  had  worlds  of  money,  I  could 
have  a  room  alone . 

The  young  pretty  lady,  with  the  plain  white 
cap,  rises  with  difficulty,  and  says,  "Is  thee  going 
down  to  the  prayer-meeting,  and  would  thee  mind 
letting  thy  lame  sister  lean  on  thee  clown  the  stairs?" 

"Certainly.  Do  they  have  a  prayer-meeting 
here?" 

"Every  Friday  afternoon." 

They  are  carrying  the  sick  to  the  couches,  and 
rolling  the  chairs  for  those  who  can't  walk.  This 
way  through  the  great  hall,  into  a  lovely  parlor.  A 
smile  from  a  lady  as  we  enter,  who  hands  a  Bible  to 
the  teacher  and  says,  "Will  you  lead  the  meeting 
to-day." 

Prayers  from  sick  ones,  for  those  who  are  worse 
off  than  themselves;  prayers  for  the  strangers  arriv 
ing;  prayers  for  the  doctors;  songs  from  some  of  the 
sweet  singers  in  Israel,  all  ladies  who  have  come  to 
the  health  resort. 

The  meeting  over,  we  slowly  take  our  way 
back  to  the  room  of  our  temporary  health  home. 

The  duty  of  one  of  us  is  plainer  and  plainer. 
These  sweet  Quaker  women  must  know  their  associ 
ate  is  a  "nigger  teacher",  and  the  teacher  must  tell 
them.  Wonder  if  they'll  bounce  down  the  stairs,  or 
pitch  her  out  of  the  window. 

"Ha!  ha!  Thee  needn't  vex  thyself  with  our 
displeasure,  for  thy  calling  is  from  heaven"  says  the 
old  .mother  Quaker  lady. 


122        SEVEN     YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

After  years  of  boiled  down  scorn,  we  have 
swallowed  at  the  South,  this  tonic  of  the  God-fearing 
Quaker  family,  is  almost  too  much.  The  tears  are 
about  to  fall,  as  the  sweet  mother  Quaker  goes  on. 

"Dry  thy  tears  now,  and  rest!  Thee  hath  a  warm 
place  in  the  souls  of  those  who  see  things  in  their 
true  condition.  All  our  God's  creatures  ought 'to  be 
loyal  to  their  country,  and  true  to  one  another.  Go 
on  in  your  duties,  and  God  is  going  to  help  raise  the 
lowly,  and  bring  down  the  high.  We  have  had 
many  experiences  among  the  blacks,  not  long  ago, 
but  we  say  to  those  who  gave  up  their  slaves 
relunctantly,  ''Friend,  thy  prey  hath  escaped  thce! 

And  thee  will  be  the  better  for  it  in  due  time.' " 

****** 

Cairo,* Illinois:  A  young  man  teacher  from 
Chicago,  making  his  way  home  from  the  South 
under  difficulties.  A  gun-shot  wound  in  his  right 
arm. 

He  says,  "They  shot  me,  and  turned  me  out  of 
my  school,  and  burnt  my  school-house." 

Pale,  and  with  his  arm  in  a  sling,  he  looks  thin 
enough  to  have  passed  through  a  siege,  which,  in 
reality  he  has;  says  they  took  his  money  and  watch, 
and  he  gladly  got  away  with  his  life.  A  teacher 
pays  his  fare  to  Chicago,  and  he  thankfully  goes 
North,  while  we  go  South  to  continue  the  combat. 

The  old  doctor  has  been  successful,  for  the 
throat  seems  well  again;  the  friends  at  home  have 
said  the  relunctant  good-by's,  and  we  are  far  on  our 
way  to  the  sunny  South. 

Department  of  a  large  public  free-school  for 
colored  people,  in  the  state  of  Mississippi.  Teacher 
sitting  at  her  desk,  scholars  singing, 


JOURNAL. 1872  123 

"Dare  to  be  right,  dare  to  be  true, 
You  have  a  work  that  no  other  can  do; 
Do  it  so  bravely,  so  kindly,  so  well, 
Angels  will  hasten,  the  story  to  tell. 

Dare  to  be  right,  dare  to  be  true, 
God  who  created  you,  cares  for  you  too; 
Treasures  the  tears,  that  his  striving  ones  shed, 
Counts  and  protects  every  hair  of  your  head." 

"There's  a  white  man  at  the  door,  ma'am,"  says 
some  one.  Enter  a  tall  well-dressed  gentleman,  with 
two  beautiful  little  white  children,  finely  dressed, 
bringing  slates  and  dinner  pails. 

"Good  morning,  madam ;  I  may  as  well  intro 
duce  myself.  I  am  Dr.  K ,  one  of  the  school 

board  of  this  school.  I  have  lived  over  twenty  years 
in  this  place;  I  bring  you  two  scholars,  one  my  own 
child,  and  one  my  housekeeper's  daughter's  child. 
They  both  live  at  my  house;  anything  they  need,  in 
the  way  of  books,  will  be  cheerfully  furnished." 

We  are  about  to  tell  the  gentleman,  we  are 
teaching  a  colored  school,  when,  all  uninvited  bv  us, 
he  goes  on  to  explain  the  situation. 

"As  one  of  the  school  board,  madam,  I  am 
highly  in  favor  of  free  schools,  for  both  white  and 
colored.  I  have  said  when  the  school  started,  I 
should  avail  myself  of  it,  and  have  promised  my 
housekeeper,  than  whom  a  better  woman  never 
lived,  I  would  educate  these  children.  My  wife 
died  long  years  ago,  and  but  for  the  interference 
of  the  southern  prejudice,  that  child's  mother  would 
long  ago  have  stood  with  me  at  the  marriage 
altar.  In  our  souls  we  are  one,  and  true  to  each 
ether.  I  say  this  before  God,  and  I  am  a  member  of 


DR.  K  S.  TWO  PUPILS. 


124 


JOURNAL. 1872.  125 

a  Christian  church,  and  hope  for  heaven.  Although 
the  mother  of  this  little  girl  is  as  white  as  most  white 
people,  yet  her  ancestors  are  known  to  be  of  African 
extraction.  I  don't  deny  it.  I  hold  the  only  honor 
able  way  to  treat  our  children  is  to  educate  them. 
Education  hurts  no  one;  it  is  the  lack  of  it  that  makes 
half  the  turmoil  among  us,  madam.  The  human 
mind  was  formed  for  ligrk.  Darkness  has  covered 
the  earth  here,  and  gross  darkness  the  people,  and 
darkness  breeds  envy  and  a  whole  troop  of  vices.  I 
have  said  to  my  neighbors,  you  can  ostracize  me  if  you 
will,  my  course  is  forward.  I  will  be  true  to  my  fam 
ily.  The  prejudices  of  the  South  are  unaccountable, 
madam.  I  bid  you  good  morning.  Anything  I  can 
do  for  you,  as  one  of  the  school  board  of  these  free 
schools,  so  reluctantly  inaugurated,  I  shall  gladly  do 
and  you  are  most  welcome  to  my  house." 

AVe  taught  the  scholars,  and  found  them  quite 
intelligent,  but  they  did  ostracize  the  doctor,  and 
sometimes  we  didn't  know  who  suffered  the  most 
from  the  mixed-up  prejudices,  of  the  mixed-up  social 
condition  of  things,  the  doctor's  family,  or  the  teach 
ers. 


CHAPTER     XXIV. 

EXPERIENCE. 

A  large  room  with  two  beds  in  it;  a  great  fire 
place  extends  nearly  accross  one  end  of  the  room ; 
trunks,  chairs,  white  bare  floor,  two  teachers  are  talk 
ing. 

One  says,  "Your  throat  is  so  bad  again,  you  can 
not  go  on  teaching;  you'll  have  to  give  up  your  de 
partment.  Shall  I  take  some  of  your  scholars?" 

The  fire  in  the  great  fire-place  roars  and  crack 
les,  the  teacher  thinks  of  home  and  friends,  of  the 
old  health  cure,  and  wonders  where  she  shall  turn 
for  help.  The  throat  has  been  swollen  all  day,  and 
with  difficulty  she  has  taught  a  large  department. 
Falling  on  her  knees  she  turns  to  the  great  physician. 
In  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell  it,  a  power  from 
above  falls  on  her  throat,  the  feeling  is  as  of  an  elec 
tric  shock,  and  the  swelling  is  gone  from  her  throat. 
She  is  instantly  healed,  and  goes  on  in  her  school 
126 


EXPERIENCE.  I2y 

duties  until  the  end  of  the  year.          *          *          * 

Together  we  four  teachers  have  taught  in  a  large 
school  all  winter.  The  county  school  board  have 
given  us  school  warrants,  the  county's  promises  of 
payment  but  no  money.  One  after  another  the 
teachers  have  been  to  the  county  treasury,  but  ob 
tained  no  money.  Northern  friends  have  sent  us 
money,  and  we  have  lent  stamps  to  each  other.  The 
rent  of  our  cottage  is  as  high  as  it  would  be  in  New 
York  city,  and  the  expenses  of  a  family  of  four  must 
be  kept  up. 

Again  we  turn  to  our  stronghold,  and  betake 
ourselves  to  the  weapon — "all  prayer."  At  the  fam 
ily  altar  we  remind  our  prayer-hearing  God  of  our 
needs.  Presently  a  teacher  comes  out  of  her  closet 
with  a  fifty  dollar  warrant  in  her  hand,  saying  she 
has  had  an  answer  to  prayer,  that  the  warrant  is  to  be 
cashed  in  greenbacks. 

They  were  at  that  time  paying  us  in  state  mon 
ey  that  sometimes  brought  seventy  cts.  on  the  dollar 
and  sometimes  less.  A  chorus  of  laughter  runs 
around  the  little  circle  of  teachers,  as  they  tell  of  the 
number  of  times  they  have  each  been  to  that  treasury 
for  money,  all  to  no  avail;  but,  says  one,  "I'll  go  with 
you;  we'll  take  this  basket  to  bring  the  money  in." 

"Together  the  Illinois  and  Boston  teachers  take 
the  walk  of  a  mile  to  the  court  house,  and  find  the 
county  treasurer,  who  sits  near  the  great  iron  safe, 
while  a  negro  sentinel,  with  a  loaded  musket  paces 
in  front  of  it.  The  school  officer  stops  his  writing, 
takes  the  warrant  presented  by  the  teacher,  says, 


128   SEVEN  YEARS  AMONG  THE  FREEDMEN. 

"Have  you  had  no  pay  this  term  ?"  "No,  sir;  and  the 
money  is  past  due,"  is  the  answer. 

"I'll  cash  that  warrant,"  says  the  treasurer,  and 
counts  out  the  greenbacks,  United  States  money. 

On  our  return  we  have  money  to  lend,  and  two 
other  teachers  say,  "Go  with  me,  and  get  mine  cashed, 
will  you?" 

We  go  and  present  their  warrants,  but  fail  to  get 
them  cashed. 

We  had  received  a  special  answer  to  prayer,  for 
our  special  time  of  need.  To  God  be  the  glory! 

"Thou  art  coming  to  a  king, 
Large  petitions  with  thee  bring, 
For  his  grace  and  power  are  such, 
None  can  ever  ask  too  much. 


CHAPTER     XXV. 

JOURNAL 1877. 

KU-KLUX    OUTRAGKS. 

A  well-educated  man  from  South  Carolina,  who 
had  taught  all  the  white  school  in  the  place  for  four 
teen  years;  his  wife  not  able  to  read  a  word;  five 
children,  three  of  whom  are  women  in  size.  The 
mother,  though  not  book  learned,  teaches  her 
daughters  to  do  all  kinds  of  work.  In  a  small  cook 
house,  in  the  rear  of  the  dwelling,  each  of  the 
daughters  take  turns  in  cooking.  Here  we  saw  rice 
used  as  a  vegetable,  eaten  with  meat,  as  in  Carolina, 
where  it  grows  so  abundantly.  The  bread  and  cof 
fee  were  excellent,  and  the  kindness  of  this  family 
drew  every  one  to  them. 

Here,  for  want  of  a  county  poor-house,  were 
boarded  the  poor,  who  were  a  county  charge,  and 
here  the  northern  teachers  found  a  boarding  place. 

The  family  is  large,  and  Mr.  Sandsby,  the 
father,  having  returned  from  the  town,  twenty-five 

I39 


130   SEVEN  YEARS  AMONG  THE  FREEDMEN. 

miles  away,  is  standing  with  his  back  to  the  great 
fire-place,  telling  the  home  circle  of  the  doings  in 
the  county. 

"The  Ku-Klux  have  whipped  the  colonel,  mad 
am,"  addressing  the  teacher,  "and  have  sent  me  word 
they  will  call  on  you.  Of  course  I  will  defend  you 
and  my  family,  with  my  gun  and  dogs,  as  well  as  I 
can,"  said  the  tall  South  Carolina  gentleman;  "but 
they'll  burn  the  house  immediately,  and  what  now  is 
our  wisest  course,  that's  the  question!  There  are 
many  colored  people  here,  and  very  much  attached 
to  the  school  they  are;  but  it  isn't  safe  to  trust  them 
in  an  emergency.  They  are  not  well  armed,  and 
they  haven't  dogs  at  their  command;  and  the  Ku- 
Klux  have  both  arms  and  dogs,  and  they  know  if 
they  are  half  of  them  killed,  there  is  no  jury  in  this 
state  that  will  give  them  justice. 

"It's  never  thought  much  of  a  sin  to  kill  a  col 
ored  man  in  a  southern  state,  and  one  of  the  proverbs 
of  the  secret  society  known  as  the  Ku-Klux,  is,  that 
''Dead  men  tell  no  tales?  The  other  proverb,  that 
mostly  governs  them,  is,  ''This  is  a  'white  man's  gov 
ernment ;  and  so,  with  some  whisky  on  board,  they 
manage  to  intimidate  the  blacks,  and  make  them  vote 
mostly  their  own  way. 

"There's  an  election  close  at  hand,  and  this  raid 
is  to  scare  them  to  vote  the  ticket  they  give  them 
So  much  for  freedom  in  old  Mississippi, madam; and 
you'll  find,  too,  they  are  bent  on  so  scaring  the  blacks, 
that  the  children  will  be  afraid  to  attend  the  school. 

"They've  killed  the  colored  man  who  ferried 
them  over  the  Tombigbee,  and  now,  what's  best  to 


KU-KLUX    OUTRAGES.  131 

be  done?  We  must  act  promptly;  they'll  be  here 
by  to-morrow  night." 

All  night  the  blacks  had  a  prayer-meeting,  and 
at  sunrise,  sent  Uncle  Billy  to  see  the  teacher,  and 
try  to  persuade  her  to  stay. 

Morning  exercises  in  the  school-room;  Scripture 
lesson:  "Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled:  ye  believe 
in  God,  believe  also  in  me.  In  my  Father's  house 
are  many  mansions:  I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for 
you."  "In  the  world  ye  shall  have  tribulation:  but 
be  of  good  cheer;  I  have  overcome  the  world." 
uThe  angel  of  the  Lord  encampeth  round  about 
them  that  fear  him,  and  delivereth  them." 

Singing,  prayer,  and  calling  the  roll.  The 
teacher  tells  the  scholars  she  is  going  to  take  a  vaca 
tion,  and  will  send  them  word  when  the  school  is  to 
begin  again;  gives  each  pupil  a  beautiful  Scotch  Bi 
ble,  donated  by  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  of  Scotland,  which 
she  has  been  saving  to  give  at  the  end  of  the  term. 

Never,  in  all  their  lives,  have  the  colored  school 
seen  Bibles  like  these;  much  less,  did  they  ever  think 
of  possessing  such  books.  Most  of  the  school  can 
read  them. 

The  school-house  was  an  old  dwelling,  hired  by 
the  county  school  commissioner,  a  northern  Christian 
man,  who  had  just  been  whipped  a  hundred  lashes 
by  the  same  band  of  Ku-Klux,  who  were  bent  on 
breaking  up  every  school  in  the  county. 

"Good-by !  Good-by,  ma'am,"  said  the  scholars, 
as  they  stepped  into  the  aisle,  and  passed  out,  each 
carrying  the  chair  they  had  brought  with  them 
at  the  beginning  of  the  term,  and  each  hugging  the 
dear  Scotch  Bible. 


[32   SEVEN  YEARS  AMONG  THE  FREEDMEN. 

A  ride  of  a  mile  and  a  half  on  the  little  pony, 
through  two  streams  of  water,  impossible  to  cross  on 
foot,  and  the  teacher  soon  found  her  pleasant  board 
ing  place,  and  with  the  help  of  the  Sandsby  daugh 
ters,  finished  packing.  Bv  this  time  the  poor-house 
boarders  had  come  for  their  good-by's. 

Uncle  Jimmy  was  a  white  man,  whose  daughter 
was  the  wife  of  a  planter  in  the  neighborhood,  the 
planter  preferring  not  to  be  troubled  with  his  old 
father-in-law,  who  was  blind,  and  very  aged.  He 
came  led  by  a  child,  and  leaning  on  his  staff,  wiped 
his  sightless  eyes,  and  began  his  good-by  speech: 

"Ma'am,  I's  lived  mor'n  forty  years  in  these 
parts.  I  cum  here  when  the  Injuns  had  their  trail 
all  up  and  down  the  red  water  and  the  blue  water. 
I've  hunted  buck  with  'em  many  a  da)-,  an'  /  declare 
to  you,  I  never  see  such  work.  It's  'worse  than  In 
juns,  to  drive  you  off  from  this  school  work.  Why. 
them  rainy  days,  when  you  all  couldn't  go  to  the 
school-house,  an'  had  your  Sunday-school  here,  I  jes' 
thought,  ef  I'd  a  had  some  one  to  have  teached  me 
like  that,  I  shouldn't  a  been  where  I  am  now.  I'm 
almost  through,  ma'am;  an'  I'm  goin'  tu  meet  you 
in  the  city  that  has  foundations,  as  you  all  was  a  tell- 
in'  a'bout  in  the  lesson;  but  I  declare,  ma'am,  I's 
feared  dese  people  as  hounds  ye  all  off  from  dis 
work'll  never  get  thare." 

Here  was  a  fourteen-year-old  white  boy,  who 
had  never  known  the  story  of  Jesus' death.  In  vain 
we  said,  "You  must  have  heard  of  Jesus,  the  God- 
man  who  died  to  help  us  gam  heaven." 

Invariably  the  answer  was,  "Who  was  he?  And 
where  was  it?  An'  did  they  kill  him?" 


KU-KLUX    OUTRAGES.  133 

He  had  never  once  heard  of  Jesus.  These  with 
a  dozen  others  of  the  family,  had  formed  the  little 
Sunday-school,  when  the  Sundays  were  too  rainy  to 
get  to  the  large  school. 

Only  five  weeks  of  the  term  had  passed,  but 
the  night  riders  had  vetoed  the  attempts  at  school 
teaching,  and  amid  the  clinging  good-by's  of  the 
negro  scholars,  and  the  tears  of  the  Sandsbys,  we 
got  ready  to  take  twenty-five  miles  of  horseback  rid 
ing,  through  the  pine  woods,  with  only  a  colored 
boy  on  a  mule  to  show  us  the  way,  Uncle  Jimmy  de 
claring,  "The  good  Lord  sent  ye  here,  if  the  devil 
drives  ye  away." 

We  had  slept  but  little  all  night,  as  the  blacks 
had  an  all-night  prayer-meeting,  and  we  could  hear 
their  shouts,  songs,  and  prayers,  sounding  on  the  still 
night  air;  but  we  made  the  journey  without  much 
inconvenience,  save  that  we  crossed  over  a  dozen 
streams,  some  of  them  so  swollen  we  had  to  jump  up 
on  the  saddle,  and  let  the  hoi'se  nearly  swim  through. 
A  colored  boy  rode  a  mule,  and  went  with  the  teach 
er,  to  show  the  way. 

Arriving  at  the  town,  which  was  the  county 
seat  of  a  large  county,  we  found  the  colonel,  super 
intendent  of  schools,  also  government  officer,  had 
been  badly  whipped  by  a  hundred  masked  men. 
They  detailed  ten  of  their  number  to  do  the  whip 
ping,  which  was  clone  with  a  leather  strap.  The 
colonel  had  gone  a  dozen  miles  from  town,  taking 
with  him  two  northern  teachers;  had  located  them 
in  their  school,  and  stopped  at  a  house  three  miles  on 
his  homeward  journey,  to  stay  all  night.  The  house 


134   SEVEN  YEARS  AMONG  THE  FREEDMDN. 

was  surrounded  by  a  hundred  masked  men  on.  horse 
back.  A  few  of  these  brave  ones  entered  the  house, 
took  the  colonel,  tied  him  to  a  tree,  and  mercilessly 
whipped  him,  he  telling  them  if  they  killed  him,  it 
would  bring  more  war  to  their  homes,  as  he  was  a 
government  officer,  and  the  government  was  bound 
to  punish  the  offense.  The  colonel,  more  dead  than 
alive,  was  left  at  the  house,  while  the  riders  returned 
to  their  homes.  A  driver  was  found  to  drive  for  the 
school  officer,  and  ere  morning  he  reached  home,  and 
soon  his  neighbors  filled  the  house  with  their  calls, 
proffering  their  sympathy,  and  loud  in  denouncing 
such  work  in  their  state.  Here  were  members  of 
the  same  church  the  colonel  had  joined,  on  going 
South  to  live;  here  was  the  grocery  man  who  sup 
plied  the  colonel's  family  with  eatables;  here  were 
many  living  close  around  the  dwelling  of  this  man, 
who,  though  a  government  officer,  was  devoting  his 
hours,  when  not  on  duty  for  the  government,  to  ben 
efiting  both  white  and  colored,  in  the  capacity  of 
head  officer  of  the  free-school  system  they  were  try 
ing  to  establish  in  this  state ;  all  these,  and  some 
others,  who  had  come  to  proffer  their  condolence, 
'were found  to  be  the  very  Ku-Klux  ivho  'whipped 
their  neighbor. 

The  case  was  brought  before  the  civil  courts, 
but  the  lawyers  adjourned  it  from  time  to  time  for 
three  years,  then  a  southern  jury  acquitted  the  Ku- 
Klux,  a'nd  when  they  returned  from  the  trial,  a  com 
pany  of  ladies  met  them  at  the  depot,  with  a  flag, 
and  band  of  music. 

Soon  the  colonel   went   to  Washington,  and  re- 


KU-KLUX    OUTRAGES.  135 

turned  with  soldiers,  who  were  quartered  for  three 
years  on  the  country,  and  we  taught  other  schools  in 
large  towns,  but  never  returned  to  our  plantation 
school.  We  think  yet  we  hear  the  echo  of  the  sad 
song  the  scholars  sang  just  as  we  left: 

"And  when  I  know  that  we  must  part, 
You  draw  like  cords  around  my  heart." 


C  H  AP  T  E  R     X  XVI. 

ANOTHER    RAID. 

Miss  Ada  was  a  devoted  Christian  girl,  the 
daughter  of  a  first-class  lawyer  in  Illinois.  The  mis 
sionary  spirit  had  fired  her  soul,  and  filled  with  de 
sires  to  benefit  the  ex-slaves,  she  left  a  home  of  lux 
ury  to  come  South  and  be  a  despised  teacher  of  the 
colored  race.  She  lived  in  one  room  of  an  old- house. 
Aunt  Melinda,  a  colored  woman  occupied  a  part  of 
the  house,  cooked  the  food  of  the  teacher,  and  carried 
it  to  her  room.  The  school  taught  by  the  lady  was 
a  short  distance  away,  in  an  uncomfortable  shed-like 
building.  The  scholars  were  learning  fast,  and 
greatly  attached  to  the  teacher.  A  night  school  for 
adults  was  taught,  and  good  progress  was  being 
made  by  all  the  pupils. 

The  school  had  gone  on  not  yet  two  months, 
when  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  sound  of 
136 


ANOTHER  RAID.  137 

many  horsemen  was  heard,  and  soon  a  rap  at  the  door 
announced  the  presence  of  the  Ku-Klux.  They  or 
dered  the  door  opened  immediately,  speaking  in  a 
guttural  tone,  behind  a  mask,  saying  they  were  in 
haste,  as  they  had  a  long  ways  to  go. 

^Yes,  yes;"  said  Miss  Ada,  who  had  sprung 
from  her  bed  at  the  first  rap,  and  thrown  on  a  wrap 
per,  "as  soon  as  I  light  a  lamp,"  taking  the  precaution 
to  secrete  her  gold  watch  and  chain,  which  lay  on 
the  table. 

"Open  the  door  or  we'll  break  it  open,"  came 
from  the  hasty  night  riders,  and  with  a  prayer  for 
help,  the  teacher  opened  the  door,  to  be  greeted  by  a 
dozen  masked  and  armed  men.  Masks  of  white, 
trimmed  with  black,  and  their  pistols  at  half  cock, 
they  entered  the  room.  The  lady  invited  them  to  sit 
down,  and  said  she  felt  such  a  sense  of  the  presence 
of  God  with  her,  that  a  thought  of  fear  never  entered 
her  mind.  With  pistol  in  hand  the  captain  of  the 
band  gave  his  orders  for  her  to  leave  in  three  days 
saying,  "This  is  a  white  man's  government,"  also 
inquiring  if  she  had  a  home,  and  why  she  should 
leave  it  to  engage  in  so  mean  a  calling. 

"We  will  not  have  white  people  mixed  up  with 
niggers,"  said  the  Captain,  and  after  inquiring  the 
time  of  her,  thinking  to  get  sight  of  her  watch,  said 
they  must  go.  As  they  went  out,  one  said  to  another, 
"She  wa'n't  scared  a  bit." 

Miss  Ada  in  relating  it,  said,  "I  shed  tears  when 
they  were  gone,  to  think  I  was  worthy  to  feel  the 
mighty  presence  of  God  so  much."  "The  angel  of 


138       SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

the  Lord  encampeth  round  about  them  them  that  fear 
him,  and  delivereth  them." 


STATE   SENATOR. 


CHAPTER     XXVII. 


THE     STATE     SENATOR. 

"Good  morning,  madam!  The  session  at  the 
capital  have  let  me  off  for  a  few  weeks,  and  I've 
come  to  attend  your  school  to  learn  arithmetic." 

The  speaker  was  the  Rev.  I.  A ,  a  colored 

representative  of  his  district,  in  the  state  legislature. 
His  time  was  divided  between  the  sittings  of  the 
state  legislature,  and  the  sittings  of  the  negro  school. 
When  he  preached  for  the  people,  as  he  often  did,  he 
could  read  from  the  Bible,  rather  poorly,  and  man 
aged  to  get  through  the  hymns  fairly.  His  cabin  was 
very  near  the  school-house,  and  was  not  of  the  poor 
est  as  to  furniture.  A  bit  of  a  civilized  carpet  cov 
ered  the  floor,  and  his  children  wore  shoes,  while 
many  did  not.  The  ability  of  the  man  was  good, 
but  he  had  an  idea  that  using  large  words,  was  the 
way  to  seem  learned,  and  he  almost  used  up  the  dic 
tionary  in  his  vocabulary. 

"Ye    see,    ma'am,"   began    the   statesman,  "our 

'39 


140       SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

race  has  to  creep  afore  \ve  can  walk,  and  it  takes  a 
mighty  sight  of  speculation  to  raise  the  ideas  of  our 
minds  to  the  citizenship  of  the  comprehension  of  the 
situation  of  ignorance.  A  little  learning  makes  us 
hanker  after  the  dish. 

"Now,  ma'am,  these  white  people  wants  you 
away  from  here.  They's  more  afraid  o'  you  five 
or  six  wimmen,  than  a  whole  company  o'  soldiers. 
They  'spects  you'll  teach  these  risin'  generation  to 
vote,  an'  to  rise  above  themselves." 

We  inform  the  senator  that  their  fears  are 
groundless;  that  we  differ  with  President  Lincoln 
about  voting;  we  think  no  man,  North  or  South, 
should  be  allowed  to  vote,  who  cannot  read  his 
ballot. 

"Qh!  ah!  yes'm;  but  the  understanding  of  the 
comprehension  of  our  relation  to  the  necessary  con 
ditions  of  the  freedom  of  a  government,  don't  make 
no  sort  o'  difference  with  the  compulsion  of  the 
former  conditions  of  servitude  to  the  present  ideas  of 
the  citizens  Of  this  republic,  ma'am. 

"Ye  see,  ma'am,  I  wants  to  learn  'rithmetic.  I 
aint  gwine  to  steal  or  murder,  and  I'm  a  citizen  of 
this  republic  gettin'  knowledge  under  difficulties.  I'm 
a  blacksmith  by  trade,  an'  I  aint  a  carin'  ef  I  don't 
hev  only  half  enough  to  eat,  ef  I  can  learn  'rithmetic. 
The  Lord  willin',  I'll  preach  the  Sunday  follerin', 
an'  will  you  jest  'splain  de  text?  It's  in  Genesis  ii.  7: 
'And  the  Lord  God  formed  man  of  the  dust  of  the 
ground,  and  breathed  into  his  nostrils  the  breath  of 
life;  and  man  became  a  living  soul.' 

"They  tell  me  names  has  a  meanin';  what's  the 


THE    STATE    SENATOR.  141 

meanin'  of  Adam,  ma'am?  The  dictionary  says 
'earth-man;  red  earth.'  Does  you  s'pose  Adam  was 
a  red  man?  So  it  says;  read  it  for  yourself.  Yes'rn  ; 
well,  then,  ef  all  sprung  from  Adam,  an'  he  was  a 
red  man,  what's  all  this  fuss  about  color  fur,  among 
the  white  'uns?  Don'  they  know  they's  got  ances 
try's  vya'n't  so  white  as  some  on  'em?  Tell  ye  what, 
dere  is  some  good  southern  folks,  an'  dere  is  dem  as 
wants  de  Lord  Almighty  tu  ax  dere  pardon  fur 
makin1  us  black  'uns,  an'  tu  step  down  an'  let  dent 
rule;  an'  I's  'feared  dey'll  fetch  up  where  'taint  alto 
gether  a  'white  man's  government,'  'cause  dere  idees 
is  'noxious  tu  de  Lord,  an'  de  heft  o'  de  angels. 

"Now,  ma'am,  is  dere  any  government  as  is 
gwine  tu  help  dis  union  have  cleyselves,  an'  let  us 
have,  de  chance  to  breathe  God's  air,  an'  not  ax  dere 
pardon  fur  it?  Whar's  it  dey  used  tu  run  tu  a  foller- 
in'  de  Norf  star,  an'  find  pertection?" 

"England,  in  the  queen's  dominion;  to  Canada." 

"Yes'm;  is  that  North  o'  Mason  and  Dixon's 
line?  Whar  duz  the  queen  hold  her  state,  an'  who 
is  she?" 

"The  queen  is  a  woman,  governor  of  England 
and  Canada,  and  much  more.  She  has  freed  the 
last  slave  in  her  dominions,  not  many  years  ago.  An 
African  prince  has  lately  been  brought  over  to  see 
her,  and  when  he  saw  her  in  the  midst  of  her  happy 
subjects,  he  asked  her  the  cause  of  all  her  peace,  and 
she  brought  out  a  Bible  and  gave  him,  and  told  him 
that  book  contained  it  all.  It  is  the  boast  of  En 
gland  that 

"  'Slaves  cannot  live  in  England, 
They  touch  her  shores,  and  their  shackles  fall.'  " 

<4'Stonishin',  ma'am!  .Was  she  related  to  the 
Queen  o'  Sheba,  as  de  good  book  tells  about?  When 
you  go  North,  ef  you  meet  up  with  her,  give  her 
my  best  respects,  ma'am."  Exit  state  senator; 
school  bell  rings. 


CHAPTER     XXVIII, 


JOURNAL. 

A  year  ago  we  taught  arithmetic  to  a  state  sena 
tor  of  Mississippi,  the  Rev.  I.  A  -  .  Sometimes 
he  studied  with  his  little  girl,  the  two  using  the  same 
books,  because  he  was  too  poor  to  get  books  for 
both.  The  school  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  pupils 
had  been  taught  three  years  in  that  place.  There 
was  good  improvement,  and  we  hoped  for  the  best. 
Marion  was  a  young  man  of  twenty-two  years.  He 
walked  three  miles  every  morning  to  school.  He 
built  the  fires  for  the  school,  and  helped  take  care  of 
the  large  school  building  that  had  been  erected,  just 
as  the  war  closed,  by  the  Freedmen's  Bureau. 
********** 

Election  day!  The  blacks  voted  all  right  in  the 
morning.  Ere  noon,  a  raid  on  the  polls  was  an 
nounced.  Suddenly  the  street  is  full  of  armed  men, 
yelling,  "Hang  the  niggers!  Shoot  'em!"  Frank 
was  the  first  one  shot  ;  was  killed  in  the,  street.  He 

142 


JOURNAL.  143 

was  peaceably  distributing-  tickets,  not  far  from  the 
place  for  voting.  Uncle  Billy  is  shot,  pitched  clown 
stairs,  and  his  ears  cut  off.  Wesley,  a  young  man, 
one  of  our  scholars,  and  in  the  employ  of  the  Ameri 
can  Missionary  Association,  is  poisoned,  but  recovers 
and  flees  for  his  life.  One  voter  runs  home  from 
the  polls,  jumps  into  his  cabin,  and  into  bed,  and 
pulls  a  blanket  over  him.  The  "election  regulators" 
follow  him,  and  shoot  him  in  his  bed.  Our  state 
senator  runs  away,  his  house  is  burnt  down,  so  is  the 
school-house,  he  runs  on,  hiding  day  times,  and  run 
ning  nights,  until  he  reaches  the  state  capital,  a  dis 
tance  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  and  begs  of  his 
associate  representatives,  protection  and  help. 

"History  repeats  itself  in  the  South,"  said  a 
speaker,  lately,  on  the  floor  of  Congress  at  Washing 
ton,  "and  if  half  the  scenes  going  on  in  some  parts  of 
our  United  States  were  to-day  written  up,  they 
would  hardly  be  believed." 

Yes;  but  the  authorities  must  remember  that 
these  scenes  can  be  proved.  Every  incident  written 
in  this  book  can  be  proved,  and  most  of  them  by 
many  witnesses. 

And  now,  patient  reader,  ere  we  part,  a  word 
or  two  to  you.  Some  of  you  who  see  the  need  of 
teachers  at  the  South,  where  for  so  long  they  have 
measurably  been  deprived  of  the  free-school  system 
the  North  has  been  blest  with,  will  doubtless  be 
teachers;  and  you  may  one  day  be  welcomed,  as  we 
hope,  in  the  sunny  South,  and  pursue  your  "heaven- 
born  calling,"  as  the  sweet  Quaker  lady  called  it,  un 
molested.  If  so,  we  bid  you  Godspeed. 


144       SEVEN    YEARS    AMONG    THE    FREEDMEN. 

Many  have  said  to  the  writer,  "/$•  it  true  that 
there  are  Ku-Klux  at  the  South,  and  did  you  ever 
see  any  of  their  work?"  To  such  we  say,  we  have 
given  you  only  a  part  of  what  we  know,  of  their 
shameful  actions  against  the  laws  of  this  govern 
ment;  but  doubtless  one  day  you  may  know  even 
more  of  their  depredations,  for  in  Ecclesiastes  xii.  14, 
we  read,  "For  God  shall  bring  every  work  into 
judgment,  with  every  secret  thing,  whether  it  be 
good,  or  whether  it  be  evil."  "When  the  general 
roll  is  called  you'll  be  there." 


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